Another Life
by Toffeecrisp
Summary: This is a sequel to Another Time Another Place. Five years have passed. It is the summer of 1950 and Charles and Molly are finally moving into an idyllic family home but is everything quite as it seems?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"Bella! Where are you?"

Molly called up the stairs to her younger sister who had disappeared from sight keen to explore the rambling old house. She stood in the hall, holding the keys in her right hand and William's warm, slightly sticky hand in her left. She looked down at her five year old son and smiled at him.

"Auntie Bella's run off without us!" William stared up at her with curiosity; his chocolate brown eyes the mirror of his father's.

Injecting her voice with enthusiasm she continued, "Shall we go and find her?"

He grinned at her and together they started to climb the old, uneven staircase just as the elderly removal man entered the hall with a tea chest in his arms.

"Where d'you want this, Mrs James?" He called breathlessly.

Molly turned her head towards him.

"Just put it in the room over there, thanks!" She indicated the empty lounge on the left hand side of the hallway.

"Right you are!" He staggered through the door burdened by the load and Molly, not for the first time that day, wondered if he ought to be carrying heavy items at his age. It wasn't until he had arrived at their rented accommodation earlier that morning to load up their furniture and belongings, that she had realised _'Broughton and Sons Removals'_ consisted mainly of Mr Broughton with some assistance from a lad who appeared to be barely out of school and young enough to be his great-grandson. Charles had already left for the airfield and there was little she could do in her condition. Five months pregnant with their second child, she was beyond offering any assistance in the matter of heavy lifting. In fact it had been Charles' idea to invite Bella to stay with them to help with the strain of the house move and looking after William while he was so busy at the airfield.

Molly and William slowly made their way upstairs and along the landing as the floorboards creaked nosily under their feet. The doors to the four bedrooms stood open and at the far end of the landing they found Bella sitting in a window seat situated directly over the front door and staring out at the wonderful view across the valley. It was mid-summer and there was a heat haze in the distance. She turned her head at the sound of Molly and William approaching and said excitedly.

"Come and look at this, Mols, it's lovely!"

Molly gazed at her seventeen year old sister looking so happy and animated and realised that apart from the fact that Bella was slightly taller than her, there was no mistaking the family likeness. They shared the same dark hair, green eyes and ready wit and anyone looking at them could tell they were sisters. Molly was glad to have Bella here with her after all the years they had spent apart during the war and in the five years since, whilst Charles had been posted to various locations around the country before leaving the RAF eighteen months ago. Bella had been delighted at the invitation to stay. Of all Molly's brothers and sisters, she was the one who had taken to life in the countryside most after being evacuated to a farm near Taunton in 1940. The farmer and his wife had treated her like one of their own and it had been a terrible wrench for Bella when it was time to return home in 1945. She had found it hard to settle again in the East End of London after learning to love the open space and freedom of living in the countryside. Having struggled her way unhappily through a secretarial college course after leaving school at fifteen and two jobs, neither of which had proved very successful, she had been at a loose end and had leapt at the opportunity to spend some time back in the countryside when Molly had informed her that she and Charles were buying a wonderful old house called Greystones.

Charles had first heard about the house quite by chance. He had made an appointment with his solicitor to sign some papers relating to the lease of the airfield from the Air Ministry when Richard Murray had mentioned in passing that by coincidence only two days earlier he had been instructed to handle the sale of a property close by. The house was being sold on behalf of the family of an elderly lady who had died six months previously. Charles had been interested to hear about it particularly as it was only a mile from the airfield and he, Molly and William were currently living in a rented house more than five miles away. Richard, sensing a potential opportunity to conclude matters promptly, offered to show them the property.

Charles and Molly had fallen in love with Greystones almost from the first moment they set eyes upon the place. Molly had gasped on seeing the house for the first time and cried,

"It's just like that house in _Suspicion._"

Charles had given her a blank look, "What are you talking about Molly?"

"You know, the film with Cary Grant and Joan Fontaine where she thinks he's trying to kill her for her money but he's not really."

Charles had laughed, "That one must have passed me by somehow. Possibly something to do with the war? Anyway," he paused to kiss the top of her head, "You're safe enough with me. You haven't got any money!"

Molly had playfully punched him in the arm as they walked down the path to explore the house and gardens.

Greystones was a twin gabled house dating from the mid-eighteenth century and built from age weathered Cotswold stone. It possessed four bedrooms and sat in half an acre of gardens. It was perched high on the side of a valley with spectacular views at the front and set back from the road with a short gravel driveway and gardens that surrounded the house banking steeply away at the rear giving it the sense of being nestled and protected by the hillside behind.

After Charles and Molly had viewed the house, Richard Murray turned to them both.

"Well, what do you think?"

Charles had looked down at Molly and seeing her excited face knew the answer already.

"I think you've got yourself a sale, Richard, if we can come to a suitable agreement."

It was fortunate for Charles that he had recently inherited a tidy sum of money from his Great Aunt as he wouldn't have considered asking his bank manager for a further loan at the current time. The airfield was doing comfortably both as a base for the flying school with a steadily increasing number of pupils but also as a base for commercial traffic with a small but increasing number of businesses using the airfield for both pleasure fights and transport of freight not to mention a growing number of private pilots adopting it as home for their aircraft. Charles had bought a couple of surplus de Havilland Tiger Moth basic trainer planes and Molly had proved her worth by taking on flight mechanic duties. She had been fortunate to receive instruction from an amiable ground crew colleague of Charles at the flight training school where he had served out his final few months in the RAF before leaving the service in the middle of 1948.

Finding the airfield at Nethercombe Heath, a former maintenance depot in the Cotswolds that the Air Ministry were de-commissioning, had been a lucky break after months of searching for a suitable piece of land to purchase. With a grass runway, two hangars suitable for light aircraft, a control tower and a small collection of buildings and offices it was the ideal place for Charles and Molly to start their venture.

Pursuing their dream hadn't been easy. Post war austerity, food and petrol rationing and the scarcity of aviation fuel had all been a factor in delaying and altering Charles and Molly's plans, particularly Charles decision to leave the RAF at the end of the war. Serving a further three years had meant a rather unsettled life for Molly and William who had followed Charles around to several different postings. Now in the summer of 1950, with petrol rationing finally having ended in May, businesses were increasingly seeing that air travel and transport for commercial purposes would be the way forward.

Charles was an only child and his parents, Mary and Harold, had been prepared to assist him financially in the venture together with a loan from the bank. When he signed a ten year lease on the airfield at Nethercombe Heath in the summer of 1949 he had crossed his fingers and prayed his instincts about the business were right. Now, twelve months later, after a lot of hard work the airfield was starting to make enough money to pay its way and provide Charles and Molly with enough income to manage and consider putting down permanent roots in the area. The legacy from Charles' Great Aunt Louisa would enable them to finally purchase a family home which was even more pressing a need now that Molly was expecting their second child.

The news of Molly's pregnancy had been welcomed by both of them, particularly Molly. She recalled her dismay at discovering she was pregnant with William in 1944 when she had realised that it would mean leaving the WAAF and giving up the work she loved. However, six years later, she was living a life she never would have dreamed possible when she was a young girl in the East End of London. Not only did she have a husband and son, whom she loved with all her heart, but on most days she was still able to spend time working with aircraft engines and she had finally achieved her dream of learning to fly. Charles had been true to his word and Molly had been his first civilian pupil. He had been a patient, if slightly nervous, instructor. His nerves, he admitted much later, were caused primarily by the fact that Molly had proved to be an extraordinarily confident pupil. He had feared that she was over confident but eventually had to concede that she was simply a talented pilot with a natural feel for the aeroplane. The day she had first flown solo had been a proud moment for Charles. For Molly it had been the culmination of all her childhood ambitions. Sometimes she almost had to pinch herself to believe that so much had happened to change the life for which she had once seemed destined. Joining the WAAF had opened the doors to a whole world of possibilities and she had grasped the opportunity given to her with both hands.

Now her attention was once again firmly turned towards her family and creating a home and life for all of them. Having grown up with four younger siblings Molly sometimes felt sorry for Charles having had no one with whom to share his childhood memories. She wanted William to have brothers and sisters and saw herself presiding over a small, noisy, chattering brood of children. William was a bright, energetic five year old, full of questions about everyone and everything. He had already spent an inordinate amount of time at airfields and not surprisingly, 'plane' had been one of his first words. Molly had carried on servicing the Tiger Moths until a couple of weeks ago when Charles had engaged the services of a former RAF flight mechanic, Donald MacKenzie, to take over from her as she was starting to find it uncomfortable to clamber up and down step ladders and reach awkward places in the engine.

"I'm not leaving for good, mind you." She told Charles, sternly, "Don't get any ideas about retiring me."

After six years of marriage he knew better than to try to put a stop to Molly doing anything she had set her heart upon and replied mildly,

"I wouldn't dream of it!"

The view from the landing window at Greystones was spectacular. Being perched high on the side of a valley, they were able to see for miles taking in the green patchwork of fields edged by low Cotswold stone walls, clumps of woods, farms and small hamlets of cottages.

"You 'aint 'alf lucky, Mols!" Bella said wistfully.

Molly nodded, "Yeah, I reckon I am, Bella."

It had taken until early afternoon for all the boxes to make their way from the removal van into the house. Mr Broughton had required frequent stops for liquid refreshment in the form of cups of tea which Bella had been dispatched to make on a regular basis.

"There won't be any bloody tea left in Ceylon at this rate!" She whispered fiercely to Molly after the fifth request.

"Mind your language!" Molly scolded her, "Will's listening."

Bella glanced down at William and holding her finger to her lips said, "Sshh!"

William giggled in response.

"It's not funny, Bella" Molly said to her sister, "Imagine what Charles' mother will say if Will starts effing and blinding next time they visit."

Bella started giggling at the thought and Molly losing patience shooed her out of the kitchen. She reflected that on the whole she and Mary had got along reasonably well considering their very different backgrounds but Molly certainly didn't want to give her any excuse for criticising either herself or the way she was bringing up her grandson.

By the end of the afternoon the major pieces of furniture had been appropriately located in their rooms and all that remained was the unpacking of the small items from the tea chests which Molly assumed would probably take herself and Bella several days to complete but on the whole things were beginning to fall into place and it was starting to look like their home.

It was almost six o'clock when Molly heard the sound of a car pulling up on the gravel outside the front door and glancing out of the lounge window saw a small, black four door Austin Eight saloon driven by Charles. Rosa was no more. It had been a sad day when Charles had sold Rosa to a colleague at the flight training school just before leaving the RAF. She held a lot of memories for both Charles and Molly but reason had seen sense; a two-seater sports car was not a suitable vehicle for a family of three.

Molly went out to the front door and opened it wide as Charles walked towards her. She smiled broadly at him and declared,

"Welcome home."

He laughed and swept her up into his arms before setting her back on her feet and leisurely kissing her. Bella wandered up the hallway from the kitchen and catching sight of Charles and Molly embracing rolled her eyes before coughing pointedly to catch their attention. Molly turned her head towards her sister.

"Something wrong, Bella?"

Bella pulled a face, "Only you two, at it again!"

Charles looked slightly embarrassed but Molly laughed, "We aren't pensioners yet!"

Bella shook her head, "More's the pity. Anyway, dinner's ready and Will's sat at the table waiting." She turned abruptly on her heel and strode back towards the kitchen. Charles smiled ruefully.

"Oh, I do love the Dawes' family charm!"

William was pleased to see his father and Charles bent over him to ruffle his dark, wavy hair,

"Had a good day, scamp?" he asked.

"Auntie Bella took me to see the ducks, Daddy."

Bella piped up immediately, "What noise do they make, Will?"

Molly rolled her eyes, she had already heard these impressions at length this afternoon when Bella and Will had returned from a trip to the village duck pond and said hastily,

"Not now, Will. Eat your dinner and tell Daddy about it later."

Charles smiled gratefully and sat down heavily at the kitchen table. He looked hot and weary and said apologetically,

"Have you by any chance had time to get that old boiler working? I'd love a bath because I spent most of the day helping Donald and I'm a bit grimy!" Adding half-heartedly afterwards, "If not, I'll see what I can do after dinner."

Molly gave him a long look. They both knew that she was far better at these sorts of jobs than he was. She shook her head,

"What would you do without me? 'Course I got it working! You can run a bath later on."

He said nothing but looked grateful and relieved and they all carried on with their meal whilst Molly recounted the events of the day. As they were finishing, Charles said,

"I almost forgot. I called in at the village shop on my way back and Stimpson will send up some groceries with the delivery boy tomorrow, just to help us out until we're organised here."

Bella looked up sharply, "Well I hope he brings some tea. 'Cos that Broughton geezer pretty much drank us dry today!"

As Charles lounged in the Victorian roll-top bath soaking off the sweat and grime of a day spent fiddling with aeroplane engines and some of the other dark, dusty previously unexplored recesses of the hangars, he heard a soft tapping on the bathroom door.

"Who is it?"

"Who d'you think? Can you let me in?" Came the loudly whispered reply.

Charles leaned out of the bath and stretched a long wet arm across to the bathroom door, finding he was just about able to reach to turn the key in the lock. Molly slipped into the bathroom and carefully shut the door behind her. She knelt down next to the bath and Charles reached out a wet soapy hand to touch her face.

"Oi, you're dripping water on me!" she laughed

"Well, you could always join me." He said his eyebrows raised and a hopeful note in his voice.

"Charles!" Molly said so primly, that he stared at her in genuine surprise, "Bella's downstairs and I only just got Will to sleep and anyway," she added with a giggle, "There 'aint room in there for a man and a beached whale!"

Charles gazed at Molly. It was true that she was blooming this time around more so than with William but only Molly could possibly refer to herself as a whale. At twenty six he thought she had never looked more beautiful. He smirked and said softly.

"Well, would you scrub my back for me?"

Molly nodded. As she stood up and reached into the bath for the soap Charles caught her hand beneath the water.

"Sure you don't need a bath?"

Their eyes were level. They both smirked, remembering other occasions but this time Molly shook her head.

"Shame!" he said softly and leaned across to kiss her before releasing her hand. She moved around behind him and began to work the bar of soap up to a lather before spreading her hands across his back and gently working the lather from the base of his spine upwards in firm, circular, even movements, massaging the muscles until she reached his shoulders and neck where she began kneading the tension away with the pressure of her strong, deft, fingers. Charles' dropped his head forwards and closed his eyes.

"Better?" she asked folding her arms around his neck and leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

He smiled, his eyes still closed and reached up to catch her hands in his.

"It feels right here, doesn't it?"

She nodded. "Yes, this is our place now."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

At eleven o'clock the following morning Bella was sitting in the front garden of Greystones with William who was digging in a patch of the flower beds having advised her that he was going to grow some roses for his mummy.

"You need to talk to Grandpa Dawes about growing flowers, Will. He knows everything!" Bella told him thinking of how her father, Dave, had transformed their backyard during the war thanks to lots of encouragement from her mother. He had been so successful growing vegetables that he had now taken on an allotment. Not only did he grow enough vegetables to keep the Dawes' brood supplied with healthy fresh food but he had started growing roses using all the knowledge and tips that his green-fingered grandad had taught him as a boy. He had even submitted some blooms to the local flower show last month where he had won second prize much to his astonishment and pleasure. At least now when he disappeared for hours on end Bella's mother, Betty, didn't worry that he was drinking away the family housekeeping money in the Earl of Wakefield. More often than not he could be found drinking tea from a vacuum flask sitting on an upturned crate as he surveyed the fruits of his labours on his allotment. He'd certainly love this garden Bella thought to herself. Perhaps Molly would invite her parents when things were settled and her dad could give her some advice because, in her opinion, the flower beds looked as though they hadn't been properly tended for quite some time. She assumed that it was something that Mrs Harker had paid little attention to in the last few years of her life.

William was happily digging a hole in the earth with a small trowel they had found in the potting shed at the bottom of the garden when Bella became aware of someone whistling the theme tune to _'The Third Man'_ which she was always hearing played on the radio. She reflected that it must be reasonably in tune for her to recognise it even if it wasn't a patch on the zither. The whistling was accompanied by the swishing sound of tyres on gravel as someone approached the house on a bicycle. She turned her head to the left and saw a tall blond-haired young man of roughly her own age, riding a delivery bicycle bearing the name _'Stimspon General Stores' _He halted outside the front door and leaned the bicycle against the wall. Bella called out to him,

"Hello. Are you looking for someone?"

He was clearly taken by surprise, not having seen her or William as he rode up the drive but seeing her now and hearing an accent that definitely wasn't the soft local burr he was accustomed to he called out,

"Who are you?"

Something in the tone of his reply annoyed Bella, "Well who the bleedin' hell are you?" She responded petulantly,

He was clearly very taken aback by this reply, pointed to his bicycle and stammered slightly, "I've… got a…. delivery for Mrs James."

Bella nodded and said brusquely, "Right. I'll go and get my sister."

The lad started and said incredulously, "Your sister!"

"Yeah!" Bella said affronted, "Who did you think I was?"

He stared at her taking in her appearance, her accent and her attitude to him and couldn't help saying honestly, "The maid, maybe."

Bella gave him a withering look and said sarcastically, "The maid!"

The lad spoke hastily in his defence, "Dad said a gentleman had bought Greystones."

Bella nodded her head, "Yeah, my brother-in-law!" She continued to look at him with undisguised animosity but somehow it didn't injure his view of her. He had seen almost immediately that despite the blazing look of annoyance in her eyes she was very pretty and feeling keen to get into her good books he said in a more placatory tone,

"Sorry. Alright. It was just a mistake." He held out his hand to her and smiled broadly, "I'm Tom. Tom Stimpson."

Bella hesitated. She hadn't been impressed with the idea that he had initially taken her for a hired help who couldn't possibly be related to the owner. However, she very quickly appreciated the fact that he had a pleasant face, in fact more than pleasant. If she was honest, good-looking was a better description and he also had very appealing blue eyes. He was tall, of athletic build, broad in the shoulders, well-tanned and looked as though he was no stranger to the cricket field on a weekend. She had to admit he had a very charming smile and sensing that he was genuinely trying to make amends she soon came to the conclusion that he was probably quite a nice lad really. She took his proffered hand.

"How d'you do. I'm Bella Dawes."

Molly, looking through the lounge window, saw Bella talking to a tall fair haired young man and wandered out into the garden. As she appeared, Bella turned to her and said, "This is Tom. He's brought the groceries."

"Hello Tom. I'm Molly."

Tom nodded in Molly's direction and she thought he almost doffed an imaginary cap to her which made her smile.

"Do you want to bring them groceries through to the kitchen?" She asked

He unloaded the items from his bicycle and carried the packages along the hallway to the kitchen looking left and right as he did so taking in the sight of the place.

"It's a nice house!" He remarked.

"Did you deliver groceries for the lady that lived here before, Tom?" Bella asked.

"You mean old Mrs Harker." He confirmed. "No, she had a daily, Sally Phillpotts, she used to come into the shop for the stuff she wanted. I hadn't seen Mrs Harker for years, not since I was a small lad. She didn't go out much and I don't think she was very well either the last few years." He looked around him, "Are you planning to do any work here, Mrs James?"

Without thinking, Molly glanced down at her stomach and Tom catching sight of the obvious bump blushed slightly.

"Well, I'd like to do some decorating. Some of the rooms need a bit of sprucing up, alright, " Molly conceded, "But I can't manage doing it myself right now."

At that moment William came racing though the hall to the kitchen grasping a flower in his hand; one that he had obviously pulled up from the flower beds. He offered it to Molly saying, "Look what I grew, Mummy!"

Molly smiled and took the flower from him, "Thanks, Will. Aren't you a clever boy. It's lovely!" She turned to Tom, "To be honest, Tom, I need to decorate a couple of the bedrooms. One for Will here and another for this one." She pointed to her bump..

"Why don't you get Bill Knowles to come in and have a look?" Tom said, offering by way of explanation, "He's a handy man and does lots of decorating and stuff in the village for people and he's pretty reasonable my Dad says."

It sounded like a good suggestion to Molly so she asked Tom if he could give her Bill's details.

"Don't worry, "Tom said helpfully, "I'll pop in on my way back and ask him to come up here, if you like. It's no trouble."

Molly was very surprised when shortly after two o'clock that afternoon a small blue Morris eight van pulled up outside the front door and the bell rang. Opening the door she saw a short, balding man in his fifties with a florid complexion, dressed in overalls and smoking a pipe.

"Mrs James?" He enquired.

Molly nodded. "Yes. That's me!"

"I'm Bill Knowles. I hear you've got some decorating that needs doing." Molly stood to one side and invited him in. "Crikey," He began, casting his gaze around the hallway, "It looks like it's been a few years since this place saw a lick of paint."

Molly took a deep breath, she was well aware that tradesmen were always looking for more business and decided that as she hadn't had a chance to talk to Charles about this yet she ought to simply stick to her original plan of asking him to look at the two bedrooms that needed decorating and said firmly, "Come and take a look upstairs Mr Knowles."

"Bill." he corrected leaning in towards her a little closer than she liked, causing a puff of smoke from the pipe to float half an inch from her face.

"Right, Bill, it is then." She replied with a dramatic cough the purpose of which entirely passed him by.

She led him upstairs and along the landing to the empty fourth bedroom. The floors were bare, the wallpaper was faded and the paint on the ceiling, doorframe and skirting boards was peeling.

"I'd like to decorate this room for my son. " Molly told him, "He's in the smaller room at the moment which I'm going to turn into a nursery."

Bill walked around the room taking in the current state of decoration and got out a notebook and pencil in which he scribbled a few points. He moved around the room feeling the walls in sweeping movements with his the fingers on his hands spread wide looking for lumps and bumps but when he reached the corner opposite the door he paused. Molly watched him staring at it before wandering over and taking out a small penknife from his pocket. He started tapping the wall with the handle.

"What are you doing?" Molly asked genuinely curious.

"There's something odd about the shape of this corner. It's not a right angle like the others" Bill said slowly. He tapped the walls either side of it and then the corner again; the sound changed.

"There's something behind this. It's hollow. Listen!" He tapped again and Molly clearly heard a different sound. He put the penknife back in his pocket. "I reckon someone's papered over a cupboard or something. Do you want me to have a look?"

Molly nodded. He ran his hand vertically along the wall feeling carefully with his fingers until he said, "Here it is! There's a small gap running from the top to the bottom." He took out the penknife again and pushed the blade through the wallpaper. It disappeared up to the hilt. He ran the knife vertically up and down tearing a line in the paper about three feet in length and then with his fingers located a small gap at the top and bottom along which he ran the blade horizontally to reveal the outline of a door.

"Can you get it open?" Molly asked

Bill pushed the penknife into the gap and used it as a lever moving it left and right to try to loosen the door from years of paint, paste and paper. He had to work on it for several minutes in five or six places before with a sudden creak the door swung open to reveal a wooden cupboard about six inches at its deepest point into the recess of the corner and complete with six internal shelves. Molly walked over and looked inside. Inevitably it was dusty and full of cobwebs but looked like a useful and serviceable cupboard.

"I wonder why it was papered over." She said.

"Who knows?" Bill responded, "But you'll be able to make use of it, I daresay."

Bill left shortly afterwards promising to contact Molly with a price for the work they had discussed and Molly went back upstairs to take another look at the cupboard. Running into Bella and William on the landing she called to her sister,

"Come and see what we found in the empty bedroom!"

She showed Bella and William the cupboard. Bella wasn't very impressed, particularly by the state of it, but standing on tiptoe to take a look at one of the higher shelves said, "There's something pushed into a gap at the back. A piece of cloth or something."

Molly, being a bit shorter than Bella, couldn't see and there was no chair to stand on in the room. "Reach in and get it, then." She said.

Bella pulled a face, "Ugh, there's probably spiders in there!"

"Oh, don't be a baby. Go on!" Molly urged.

With gritted teeth Bella reluctantly reached up and through the cobwebs to the back of the cupboard until her hand fell upon some cloth wrapped around something hard. She grasped it and drew it out to show Molly. She unwrapped the cloth and saw lying in her palm almost black with tarnish, a silver locket and chain.

"Someone must have left it there by mistake." Molly concluded, "Mind you, it don't look like it's worth much."

Bella turned it over in her hand, "You never know, praps it just needs a clean. I'll go and see if I can make it look any better." She wandered off downstairs in search of some silver polish and Molly glanced down at William,

"Auntie Bella's a bit hopeful. It don't look like long lost treasure to me."

After dinner that evening, Charles and Molly were sitting in the garden together enjoying some peace and quiet after William had gone to bed. The air was very still and it was a warm evening. Charles had been teaching a new pupil, a wealthy young man with too much time on his hands and according to him too much money as well. However, he wasn't complaining. He would gladly teach a dozen bored and wealthy young men if it kept the airfield operational. They fell into a companionable silence watching the sun slowly beginning to sink in the west across the valley and were only disturbed when Bella came out of the house towards them. She took in the sight of Charles and Molly holding hands and was sorely tempted to say something about them being a soppy pair just for fun and to provoke them when Charles interrupted her thoughts by looking up at her and commenting.

"What's that necklace you're wearing, Bella? I haven't seen that before."

Bella smiled, pleased that he'd noticed. "It's the locket we found this afternoon in that cupboard in the empty bedroom."

"Can I have a look at it, please?" Charles asked.

Bella took it off and handed it to him. She had worked hard to clean away all the years of tarnish and it was now sparkling as good as new. The original chain had been broken and so she had been forced to put it onto another necklace chain. It didn't really match and she thought she might see if she could buy a replacement in Cirencester next time she was there. Charles turned it over in his hand and saw the elaborately engraved and entwined initials on the front.

"A.D." he said aloud.

"Yes." Bella beamed at him, "The same as mine!"

A frown creased his brow, "The same as you?"

Bella sighed as if she were talking to a simpleton and said slowly, "Arabella Dawes!" Charles nodded slowly in recognition and she continued, "Molly said I could keep it."

"Is there anything inside it?" Charles asked.

Bella shook her head. "I dunno. It won't open no matter what I try. It just seems to be stuck fast."

Charles glanced at Molly, "Well, I suppose it's alright to keep it. It must have been there for years."

Molly shrugged, "Bill Knowles, reckoned that cupboard had been shut up for more than twenty five years given the amount of paper and paint over it. What harm can it do?"

Molly awoke with a start; her nerves jangling and heart thumping. She had been dreaming that she was running through dark woods. She could hear footsteps behind her pounding on the earth, the undergrowth and leaves rustling as they brushed past and twigs breaking underfoot. The faster she ran, the heavier her legs became and the slower she seemed to move making it increasingly more difficult to put distance between herself and whoever was following her until she reached a gorge and with no way back jumped into the void. At that moment she had woken startled by her surroundings but still consumed with all the sensations of fear and tension she had just experienced.

She took a few deep breaths to steady herself, immediately relieved by the realisation that it was only a dream. She felt hot and pushed back the covers. Beside her Charles slept soundly undisturbed by her restlessness. Her throat was dry and she realised that she was thirsty. Swinging her legs out of bed she padded across the floor and out onto the landing heading towards the bathroom to fetch a glass of water. As she crept carefully along the landing trying not to stumble or make any noise that might disturb the others she became aware of another sound. In the distance she could hear a creaking noise. The further she moved along the landing the louder the noise became until she pinpointed that it was coming from the empty bedroom.

The door was ajar and Molly peered around it. There were no curtains hanging at the windows yet and moonlight flooded the room casting long shadows across the floorboards. Molly heard the creaking sound again and turned her head to the corner of the room opposite her. The cupboard door in the corner was moving gently backwards and forwards, creaking slightly on its rusty hinges. She glanced across to the window and saw that it was open. She couldn't remember opening it herself earlier in the day but it was a warm night and she reasoned that perhaps Charles or Bella had opened it before going to bed. She crossed the room to the window meaning to shut it and cut off the breeze that was making the cupboard door creak, however, as she paused by the window and looked out into the garden she was struck by the thought that it was a very still night. The house, located high on the side of a valley, was surrounded by trees; trees that were still. There was no breeze. Nevertheless, she shut the window tightly, turned to the cupboard door, pushed it shut, crossed the room again and made her way out onto the landing heading for the bathroom. As she reached the bathroom door and grasped the handle she was stopped in her tracks by the unmistakeable sound of the cupboard door creaking again.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Thank you to everyone for reading the first two chapters and all your kind reviews. I do really appreciate everyone taking the time to read and comment. It is always a great encouragement to me to keep my head down and keep writing. Thank you._**

**Chapter Three**

"Would you like a lift into Nethercombe this morning?" Charles asked as he finished his breakfast and put down the newspaper.

"Yes, please!" Bella called out almost immediately before Molly could respond.

"Of course!" He said politely to his sister-in-law before turning to his wife and saying, "What about you, Molly?"

Molly, standing at the kitchen sink looking out at the garden, was lost in thought. When she had woken this morning she had wandered along to the empty bedroom to find the door of the corner cupboard firmly shut, just as she had left it last night. She was beginning to believe that she must have imagined the whole episode. After all, it was entirely possible that there had been a rogue breeze or vibrations in the old, uneven floor that had caused the cupboard door to move and creak. After getting a glass of water she had returned to bed and cuddled up to Charles who had sleepily placed an arm around her before sinking back into his slumber. She had listened intently for another fifteen minutes or so but heard nothing. She sighed and told herself to stop being silly. It was nothing and she was just getting her bloomers in a muddle, as her Nan would have told her when she was a little girl.

"Molly?" She heard Charles speak and turned towards him. "Would you like to go into Nethercombe today?" He repeated.

She shrugged and replied, "Well, we've been here three days. I suppose we ought to show our faces. I bet they'll want to take a butcher's at us. Besides, we could do with some groceries. I'd better call in at the shop and settle up."

She didn't add that she felt nervous at the prospect of introducing herself to the locals. She thought Charles might not understand how she could feel this way after all the years of mixing with his colleagues and service personnel from all walks of life. It was hard to explain to someone blessed with Charles' easy manners that for her it was stepping into the unknown again. She had progressed from being a lowly aircraftwoman in the WAAF to being the wife of an RAF officer. It was a world she understood and she had learned to be comfortable with her place in that world. Now they were putting down roots and establishing a new life here in the Cotswolds and it was in many ways an alien place to her. Bella had already recounted Tom Stimpson's comment about the belief that Greystones had been bought by a gentleman. For the first time in a long while Molly took a hard look at herself and realised that very few people at first glance would consider her to be a gentleman's wife. The moment she opened her mouth she would confirm the fact that she hadn't come from the top drawer of life or anywhere near the middle. She had made a conscious effort in the early years of their marriage not to slip quite so many colloquial expressions into her everyday speech. It was difficult; they were ingrained in her. It was only when Charles asked her why she had been speaking in a strange way to the wives of some of his colleagues at the Wing Commander's drinks party, that she realised she was trying too hard.

"I'm just not like those other women." She told him passionately, "I didn't go to some girls' school and play lacrosse or drink cocktails. I don't know who they're talking about half the time, either. I just don't want to stand out like a sore thumb all the time."

Charles had smiled at her with a look on his face that he meant to be reassuring but which in truth, seldom dispelled the doubts like these that surfaced in her mind from time to time.

"Don't try to change yourself, Molly. It doesn't matter what they think." He told her.

She knew that Charles meant what he said because she always felt assured that he loved her for the person she was but he didn't really know how it felt when other people cast disbelieving glances in her direction simply because she spoke without the requisite middle-class accent. It was true that people had become used to her over time and she had even struck up a friendship of sorts with a couple of other RAF Officer's wives but it hadn't been the same as the friendship she had experienced in the WAAF. She missed having a friend like Jackie Lewis. She supposed that was why she was so pleased to have Bella with her now; someone to face the music with, although sometimes when she thought of her sister she felt how much better placed she was to cope with this situation than Molly. Having been an evacuee she already knew how it felt to suddenly find yourself in an alien environment where you needed to fit in and she, at least, had managed that transition.

Thinking of Jackie, Molly turned to Charles and said, "Did I tell you that I got a letter from Jackie yesterday?"

"No. How are they?" He asked in a level tone.

Molly nodded, "Really well. It looks like the end of petrol rationing is making a big difference to them. Jackie says Smithy and John have been a lot busier over the last few months."

Charles smiled, "That's great news. Glad to hear it."

Jackie wrote to Molly fairly often, certainly more frequently than Molly returned the favour. She and Smithy had married in October 1945 and Charles, Molly and William had been very welcome guests on that happy occasion. Just as Smithy had planned, he had gone into business in Birmingham with John Powell with whom he had struck up a friendship during their incarceration as prisoners of war. He had taken time to learn the trade and worked under John's tuition to eventually become a good, competent motor mechanic. It had certainly helped him over the years to have the support of a technically minded wife in Jackie, who had been known to pitch in and help by carrying out services, oil changes and minor repairs when they had been short-handed. She had less time now, of course, with two children on her hands. Geraint had been born in early 1947 and was followed by a little girl called Cerys last summer. Molly had seen all of them six months ago after taking a couple of days off to travel to Birmingham with William. Charles could spare her at that time as the airfield was not a busy place in the depths of winter and there was certainly a shortage of pupils keen to learn to fly in an open cockpit in January. It had been a happy couple of days with Jackie reminiscing about their days in the WAAF and Molly had enjoyed seeing Smithy relaxed, happy and settled with his own family.

"Jackie said in her letter, they might be able to get down here for a visit before too long. That'd be good wouldn't it? I know they'd love to see the airfield and if we get the house sorted out there'd be room for them to stay." Molly looked to Charles for his approval.

He seemed a little bit distracted when he answered, "Yes, I suppose so."

She was surprised at the way he spoke. He didn't seem very enthusiastic at the suggestion and she remarked upon it, "You sound a bit unsure. You wouldn't mind would you?"

Charles looked up sharply with a furrowed brow, "Of course, not. I don't have a problem with Smithy. You should know that!"

Molly nodded at him but she had often wondered if Charles had truly buried every negative feeling he had once harboured against Smithy.

Charles dropped Molly, Bella and William in the centre of the village near the Green on his way to the airfield. He kissed Molly on the cheek and said that he might be late home as he was planning to invite Donald, a couple of other ground staff and a few of the other regulars at the airfield over to the Blacksmith's Arms for a drink after work. The fine, good weather and light evenings had increased the flight activity both for Charles and others using the airfield and he wanted to make a gesture of thanks to his staff who had been putting in more hours recently and customers supporting the venture. In many ways he viewed his employees in the same way that he had once viewed the crew of 'C for Charlie'. They all needed to pull together and relied on each other to keep the business operational and successful. His ten years of service in the RAF had taught him some valuable lessons for life and he knew that he could make use of what he had learned in business.

He was sorry that Molly couldn't work alongside him at the moment. He had been used to her dropping in to spend a few hours with him. Sometimes she was alone and he would find her bent over the Tiger Moth's engine, the cowling up, happily tinkering away, hands plastered in oil and singing to herself. She had once jokingly told him that she only sang in the bath or if she was very happy and he now knew that she had been telling the truth on both counts. Sometimes Molly brought William with her to the airfield. He loved being there although Molly took care to keep him out of harm's way. When he was permitted, he would clamber up to sit in the Tiger Moth's cockpit and pretend he was flying.

"Looks like we've got another pilot in the family!" Molly had called out to Charles the first time she had seen William sitting proudly in the pilot's seat and wearing his father's leather flying helmet which was so big on him that it had slipped down over his eyes.

"I suppose it's inevitable." Charles remarked, "It's in his blood." He glanced at Molly proudly watching their son with a smile of pure delight on her face and in that moment, remembering all the operations he had flown over Germany just a few years ago, he prayed that William would never have to bear arms or fly in combat. He had done his duty and believed that despite the high cost, the war had been just but now that it was over he wanted a lasting peace for everyone, particularly for his own family.

As Charles drove the last half mile to the airfield he thought about the meeting he had arranged for lunchtime. He'd been a little distracted this morning when Molly was talking about Smithy and Jackie and he realised now that he hadn't sounded very enthusiastic about the possibility of all four of the Smith family coming to stay. He didn't mind the prospect of a visit and made a mental note to himself to assure Molly that she could invite them whenever she wanted. The reason he had been distracted was that he had received a phone call at the airfield yesterday from Richard Murray saying that he knew of a local businessman who was interested in possibly making use of the airfield for transportation of some light commercial freight. Richard had hinted that it could be a lucrative arrangement although he had been a bit cagey about the name of the businessman and what the contract would entail and for some reason Charles had a feeling of unease, so much so that he hadn't discussed the matter with Molly. He reasoned that she had enough to contend with at the moment with the house move, William and the baby on the way and he didn't want to raise her hopes if in the end it all came to nothing.

After Charles had driven away, Molly declared that she would call in at the General Store to settle up their business with Mr Stimpson. Bella and William were intent on walking the short distance to the bridge over the stream that ran along behind St Mary's Church and a row of higgledy-piggledy old cottages. Bella had promised William a game of Pooh Sticks. He was intrigued by the name and kept giggling to himself in the way that only a small child who finds something excessively funny can continue to laugh for minutes at a time. Even Molly had pulled a face at the name and said to Bella,

"What on earth is 'Pooh Sticks'?"

Bella stared at her in surprise, "Didn't you ever read '_The House at Pooh Corner'_?" Molly looked blank so she continued, "Ma used to read it to us when I was staying at the farm and we used to play it all the time. It's fun Molly."

Molly didn't look convinced and said, "Well as I remember, our house weren't exactly awash with books when we were kids, Bella."

Bella knew that she was right. The Dawes family were not renowned as great readers. It had been yet another revelation to Bella during the war that some families had bookcases full of well-thumbed and well-loved classics and actually enjoyed reading them for pleasure not just as texts that had to be studied under sufferance at school. Her evacuee family had been great book lovers and she had enjoyed listening to the farmer's wife reading aloud every evening to her three small children. _The House at Pooh Corner_ was a favourite with all of them and she had spent many a happy afternoon playing on the rickety wooden footbridge over the shallow brook near the farmhouse.

"Pooh Sticks! Pooh Sticks!" William was chanting animatedly and jumping up and down on the spot.

Molly looked at Bella and said, "Looks like you'd better go off and play then, Bella." She turned to William, "Behave yourself, young man and don't get wet!" She ruffled his hair and he gave her an impish grin. It was difficult for her to deny William anything when he looked at her like that. _Goodness _she thought to herself _how much like your father you are_.

Molly pushed open the door of Stimpson's General Stores intent upon paying for yesterday's delivery and arranging for an account to be set up. Having seen his son yesterday, she had no difficulty in identifying Mr Stimpson; a tall, well-built, fair-haired man in his late forties and dressed in a tan coloured grocer's overcoat. To her surprise he spoke to her as soon as she entered the shop.

"Forgive me, but are you Mrs James?"

She heard the unmistakeable sound of a Geordie accent and stared at him in surprise not only at the fact he knew who she was but the incongruity of the local shopkeeper in a small Cotswold village originating from the North East of England. "How did you know?" she asked.

He laughed, "My Tom said he'd met two sisters yesterday who were like peas in a pod. Well, he was right by the looks of it." He leaned towards her in a conspiratorial manner, "Mind you, I happened to be round at the side gate when I saw Mr James dropping you all off at the Green."

Molly laughed, "An' there was I thinking you were Dick Barton or something!" she remarked.

"No such luck!" Stimpson replied, "But I'm guessing you were no more born and bred in this part of the world than I was."

Molly liked his easy manner and joked with him, "You _should_ be a detective, you know," and added as confirmation, "I grew up in the East End of London so I'm a long way from home now."

"Aren't we all?" He agreed, "But they do say home is where your family are and mine's here now."

It was quiet in the shop and Molly found him very easy to talk to. She was curious, "How long have you been here in Nethercombe?"

Mr Stimpson exhaled, a frown creasing his forehead as he made mental calculations. "Must be nearly twenty years. I worked at Palmers Shipyard in Jarrow and got laid off in thirty one. They were hard times up there, I can tell you. I came south looking for work and ended up farm labouring. Mind you, I was one of the lucky ones who managed to get work. Plenty didn't. Then I met my wife, Marjorie and well, here we are twenty years later." He gestured to the shop, "Never, saw myself being a shopkeeper when I was a lad, but they say all things happen for a reason."

"You're right!" Molly agreed. "They do."

She glanced around her. The shop was well stocked but with the continued rationing of some basic foods such as sugar, butter, cheese and notably tea, considering the amount drunk by Mr Broughton two days ago, Molly knew they would need to register with the shop to obtain their allocation.

"Now that we've moved here, I'd like to register our ration books." She told Mr Stimpson, "And settle up for those deliveries yesterday."

Mr Stimpson nodded and set about dealing with the paperwork whilst Molly thought about their conversation. It was interesting to rmeet someone so soon who could appreciate how she felt being an outsider and she couldn't help asking,

"Tell me, how long does it take before you fit in around here?"

Stimpson smiled and joked, "Give them ten years and they might start warming to you." He saw her face fall and said kindly with a wink, "I'm pulling your leg, lass. You'll be alright, you'll see. They're pretty fair minded folk, on the whole."

William was jumping up and down for joy. Somehow he had managed to win the Pooh Sticks competition on eight occasions out of ten and Bella said suspiciously to him, "Are you sure you haven't done this before, Will?"

"Can we play again, Auntie Bella? Please." He pleaded with her and she rolled her eyes,

"Alright. It's the best of fifteen and then we'd better go and find Mummy." She looked around her, "You better go and find some more sticks, Will, there's no more round here."

"Go and look just round the corner. There's loads there." A male voice called out.

Bella surprised by the sound, turned to see Tom Stimpson walking towards the bridge pushing his delivery bicycle and smiling broadly. Will hadn't needed to be told twice and had already scampered off to fetch the sticks. Bella returned the smile feeling strangely self-conscious on this second meeting and to hide the sensation said, "Do you ever go anywhere without that bike?"

Tom laughed, "Not at the moment. I'll be eighteen in September and then I'll be off to do National Service, so I won't be taking the bike with me then."

Bella nodded with understanding. The National Service Act that had been passed last year requiring all young men between eighteen and twenty-one to do eighteen months service in one of the armed forces. "Which service are you gonna join?" She asked.

"I dunno. Probably the army." Tom replied. "Dad was in the Home Guard during the war. I used to like seeing them on parade and doing drill."

"Wasn't he in the forces, then?" Bella asked.

Tom shrugged, "He was called up but he failed the medical. Turned out he had a heart condition and wasn't fit, not that he knew anything about it. I think he's a bit envious of me. He tried to enlist in the first war but he was only sixteen and my Grandma found out." He started laughing as he retold the story he had heard many times, "She marched down to the recruiting office with my Dad and even though she was only five feet tall she gave this huge sergeant a piece of her mind. She'd have tanned my Dad's backside as well if he hadn't been twice as big as her!"

Bella smiled. Tom had an amusing way of recounting a story and she was beginning to think that he was good company when William came charging back towards them carrying a bundle of sticks.

"Can we play again?" He called eagerly. Bella laughed and taking the sticks from him started breaking them into small pieces.

"Are you having fun?" Tom said watching her.

Bella pulled a face, "It's fun for a five year old, 'specially 'cos he keeps beating me."

Tom laughed and replied, "I suppose you're used to doing more interesting things than that, being from London. It must seem pretty boring here for a townie."

Bella was struck by the expression, "Are you calling me a 'townie'?"

Tom beginning to sense danger from the tone of her voice especially after their first encounter yesterday, decided to play safe and said mildly,

"I just thought there must be a lot more to do in London like the pictures and stuff. If we want to go to the Regal in Cirencester it takes half an hour on the bus."

Bella absorbed this information and said in a more reasonable voice, "Well, not all of us want to go to the pictures every five minutes. For your information I was evacuated to a farm during the war. I know quite a lot about the countryside as it happens."

Tom was amused by this declaration and decided to have some fun. A slow smile crept across his face. He ran his fingers through his hair and said with a hint of a challenge in his voice, "Alright. What could you tell me?"

Bella cast around in her mind for proof of her knowledge and said, "I know the names of most common birds and lots of wildflowers and plants."

Tom laughed disparagingly, "You could have learned that from a book!"

Bella thought again and then with an idea occurring to her said confidently, "I could find you a badger's set."

Tom was surprised by this assertion and paused to think about it before asking, "Where?"

Bella shrugged, "Well, I've only been here three days but if you named somewhere I bet you I could find you a badger's set."

Tom began to like this idea. In fact it sounded quite appealing. He found Bella intriguing. On first acquaintance she seemed to be a typical cockney. She certainly wasn't afraid to speak up for herself and speak her mind. He'd expected her to find Nethercombe boring and hear her longing for the bright lights but instead she was claiming to be knowledgeable about the countryside and thought she could show someone born and bred here a thing or two. She was spirited and feisty and even though he knew she ought to annoy him he couldn't help liking her. "You're on." He said. "How about Hester Rise. D'you know where that is?"

Bella shook her head.

"Alright, then." He replied, "I'll call for you at seven o'clock tonight and show you where it is." He started to wheel his bicycle away from Bella and William across the bridge. As he reached the other side he turned his head to look at Bella and with a broad grin on his face called, "See you later." He mounted his bicycle and as he rode away whistling '_The Third Man' _he couldn't help feeling rather pleased at the prospect of walking out on a fine summer's evening with such a pretty girl.

The bell on the door tinkled lightly as Molly entered The Poppy Tearooms in the centre of Nethercombe. She glanced around her seeing that a couple of the tables were occupied by ladies with shopping bags but there was no sign of Bella or William and she assumed that they were still playing Pooh Sticks by the stream. Seeing a vacant table in the window Molly sat down and looked out onto the Green to keep an eye out for them. She had told Bella to meet her here once she and William had finished playing and looking around the village. She picked up a copy of the menu and perused it for a minute before hearing a rustling as the waitress approached. She looked up to see a brown-haired woman in her late twenties dressed in a black dress, frilly apron and cap. The waitress took a notebook and pencil from her pocket.

"Can I help you?" she asked with a smile.

"Just a pot of tea, thanks." Molly replied

The woman retreated only to return a few minutes later carrying a tray. She set about placing a cup and saucer, teapot, hot water and a milk jug ionto the table and as she did so she asked casually, "Are you visiting Nethercombe?"

Molly shook her head, "No. We've just moved here."

The waitress looked up surprised, "Do you mean Greystones?"

"Yes. Do you know the house?" Molly replied.

"Oh, yes Madam," she exclaimed, "I used to work there, until old Mrs Harker died."

Recognition dawned and Molly said slowly, "You must be Sally Phillpotts."

"That's right!" The woman said with a beaming smile, "I worked there for four years."

"You must have been sorry to leave your job when Mrs Harker died." Molly said sympathetically expecting nothing more than an acknowledgement but she saw a strange look pass across Sally's face and noted that she hesitated before replying,

"Well, luckily I found this or I'd probably have had to go to Cirencester every day and I didn't want to do that" She paused before adding, "I worked in munitions, you see, during the war and I had to go and live in Birmingham. I hated that so when I came home and got the job at Greystones I was glad." She leaned towards Molly and lowered her voice. "Mind you, Mrs Harker wanted me to live-in but you wouldn't catch me doing that, certainly not at night…." She trailed off suddenly and appeared to bite her lip seemingly conscious that she had said more than she intended before adding rather hastily, "It was the noisy boiler you see always clanking and creaking unexpectedly. It used to make me jump something terrible. I don't suppose Mrs Harker noticed it much though because she was getting very hard of hearing and her sight had been failing for years due to some condition she had, I believe. She was pretty much blind by the time she died, poor lady." She had finished setting out the dishes and nodded at Molly before moving across to attend the ladies at the table opposite.

Molly had listened to Sally Phillpotts' chattering in silence. She didn't for one minute believe the explanation she had given for wanting to live out. Molly knew she had made that story up on the spur of the moment; it was obvious from the look of embarrassment on her face and her unwillingness to catch Molly's eye as she spoke. Furthermore, Molly knew full well that the boiler was in good working order. She had given it a thorough inspection on the day they moved in and managed to get it working without any trouble in order to heat the hot water for Charles' bath. It had been efficiently supplying the house with hot water for the past two days without making any creaking or clanking noises. She was sure that it was just an excuse that Sally had made up and it seemed obvious to Molly that she was trying to hide something.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

At midday Charles entered the foyer of the Bell Hotel in Upper Chilton with a sense of trepidation. The phone call yesterday from Richard Murray had been both surprising and intriguing. After making general enquiries about the business, the airfield and the house move, Richard had said. "I'm calling on behalf of a client who wondered if you might be interested in some business he may be able to put your way?"

Charles had been taken aback and said honestly, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested. Who is it?"

He heard Richard hesitate before saying, "My client would rather not disclose his identity until he meets you and we've agreed in principle that any discussions are entirely confidential. You don't have a business partner, do you Charles?"

It was true that in legal terms, Charles, was the sole owner of his business. It was his name on the lease agreement for the airfield, his name on the loan from the bank and all property owned by the business had been bought in his name. However, morally, he considered Molly to be his partner as his wife and closest confidante. It was his turn to hesitate.

"It's true that I don't have a formal business partner, but I discuss most things related to the business with my wife."

Richard paused before saying, "I'm sorry Charles, but my client would have to insist that you don't discuss anything relating to this venture with her."

Charles thought quickly. He didn't like the idea of not discussing this with Molly but decided perhaps it would be better to keep this to himself until he knew more. If it was something he could go ahead with he knew he could trust her not to talk about it and neither Richard nor his client needed to know that they had discussed the matter. On the other hand, it might all come to nothing and involving her in secrecy might be pointless. He gave his word of assurance to Richard, knowing that he would make a judgment later about whether or not to break his promise.

"Can you give me any idea in broad terms of what the proposal is about?" Charles asked.

Richard seemed to be thinking about this request before saying rather vaguely, "Some transportation and storage of light commercial freight. I can't be more specific, I'm sorry. My client works in a very competitive business and I'm afraid secrecy is part and parcel of the way he operates. I should perhaps add that the proposed terms are very generous and he would certainly make it financially worth your while." Richard was certainly trying to make the arrangement sound lucrative although a doubt was nagging at the back of Charles mind. However, despite the fact that spring and summer had been good for business, Charles was aware that with the onset of autumn and winter use of the airfield would drop off and if he had the opportunity to bring in more income he should try to secure it. By the time the winter arrived his family would have grown and he owed it to them to at least follow up this opportunity. However, he needed to ask one more question.

"I assume that if I decide not to proceed with the venture, after our meeting, your client will accept my on-going discretion in the matter."

Richard paused before replying, "I'm sure after the meeting, Charles, you'll agree that being involved is in your best interests." It was obvious he meant the comment to be light-hearted but to Charles it sounded forced.

Upper Chilton was twenty miles from Nethercombe. The Bell Hotel had started life as an eighteenth century coaching inn and its ivy clad exterior had welcomed many a hungry and thirsty traveller over the centuries. However, its clientele today were rather more middle-class and very likely to be popping in for a spot of lunch on their way home from the golf club which was just up the road. Dressed in a dark blue single-breasted suit, white shirt and RAF squadron tie, Charles looked very much at home in his surroundings as he entered the foyer and was greeted there by Richard Murray who walked towards him with an outstretched arm ready to shake his hand. He led him through to the oak panelled dining room. Sunlight streamed through the magnificent bay window that overlooked the gardens beyond. Richard weaved his way through the largely empty dining room to a discreetly positioned table partially obscured from the view of the rest of the room. Sitting at the table was a dark-haired, handsome man in his late thirties, expensively dressed in what Charles recognised, from its perfect fit, to be a Saville Row suit. He stood up as Charles approached him, smiling broadly. He was a little shorter and stockier in build than Charles but he held himself with unmistakeable military bearing. Richard did the introductions.

"Charles, may I introduce, Gerald Harker." The name immediately rang a bell with Charles. They shook hands.

"Please, take seat. "Gerald said. He was well-spoken and Charles detected a public-school air about his demeanour.

"Forgive all the cloak and dagger business," He began, "Thought I'd left all that behind me after the war, but I like to keep my business activities to myself as much as possible."

The waiter approached with menus and they broke away from conversation whilst making their choices. Once the order had been taken and Harker had requested a bottle of wine, Charles took the opportunity to say,

"Forgive me, but are you related to a Mrs Harker who owned Greystones?"

Harker smiled. "Well, you've made the connection. She was my Aunt by marriage. Richard handled the disposal of the house for me and he mentioned that you might be a useful contact." He paused while the waiter opened and poured the wine. Once he had retreated, Harker continued, "Richard has mentioned to you that I work in a competitive market and I'm looking for somewhere a little out of the way, shall we say. I need to transport some goods to a secure location and store them for a while before distributing to customers." He gave Charles a long look, weighing up his possible response to this information.

Several thoughts were running through Charles mind at that moment; some straightforward others prompted by suspicion and he was trying to sort them into logical order before asking the next question. Eventually, he plumped for, "What line of business are you in?"

"Luxury goods." Harker replied without hesitation.

Charles raised his eyebrows, "Anything in particular?"

Harker replied vaguely, "This and that. Whatever the market demands."

Charles was no wiser as to what type of business Harker was actually doing and tried one last tack, disguised as a reasonable question. "Richard mentioned the possibility of light freight being flown into the airfield. I take it we are talking about small lightweight goods as there are limitations to the type of aircraft that can use the airfield, particularly with a grass runway."

Harker smiled and said elusively, "I'm sure the airfield could cope with what I have in mind. Just a couple of flights per week. I'd need a secure storage area and I'd arrange for the goods to be collected for distribution at night so as not to disturb anyone." He looked Charles in the eye. "I'm sure we could come to an agreement that you would find acceptable." They talked for a little while about the airfield, its facilities and the most frequent periods of use during the week and Harker asked pertinent questions.

The waiter brought their meals and conversation turned away from business to general interests. Harker talked about his wartime service in the army advising that he had been a Captain working in military intelligence although he was unable to provide more details because of the nature of his work. He asked Charles about his time in the RAF and then more generally about how the family were settling in at Greystones. He recounted visits there as a young boy in the nineteen twenties.

"My uncle always spoiled me as I recall. I was his only nephew and he had no children of his own, you see. He died in 1932 and my Aunt stayed on there until her death six months ago, as you know."

"You had no desire to keep the house, yourself?" Charles asked.

"I had no need or use for it, to be honest." Harker replied, "I hadn't seen the place for a long time. My business interests keep me very occupied and my wife visited my Aunt most of the time, particularly in the last few months."

Their meal was at an end and Harker asked the waiter for the bill before turning to Charles and saying, "Well, have I convinced you to join me in my venture?"

Charles knew that the meeting had probably raised more questions in his mind than it had answered. He was suspicious of Harker for many reasons and most of all because of his unwillingness to give a straight answer regarding his business activities. The annoyance for Charles was that this by itself didn't prove that Harker was doing anything underhand or illegal. He might simply be maintaining the degree of confidentiality that he considered necessary in an initial meeting or enjoying recreating the cloak and dagger activities of his wartime experience within his business life hoping that these tactics would allow him to get ahead of his competitors. The only thing Charles knew for certain at this point was that he was undecided. He needed to play for time.

"Perhaps, I should think about it overnight." He offered, "I'm going into Cirencester tomorrow. I could drop in to see Richard at his office, if that's acceptable."

Harker stood up and offered Charles his hand, "Completely! But don't think about it too long." He looked Charles in the eye and held onto his hand half a second longer than was necessary and Charles got the distinct impression he was not a man to be trifled with.

* * *

Molly looked up in surprise as Bella walked into the kitchen shortly before seven o'clock that evening uncharacteristically dressed in a pair of blue slacks teamed with a short-sleeved floral print blouse. It had been a warm day and Bella, usually very conscious of her appearance, was seldom seen wearing anything other than a dress. Molly couldn't help remarking upon her appearance, "Why are you wearing slacks?"

Bella replied casually, "I'm going out."

"Like that!" Molly said incredulously. She knew that she'd spent a lot of time wearing mechanic's overalls during her time in the WAAF and whenever she'd worked over at the airfield, but those had been work clothes. Women seldom wore trousers unless there was a particular need and certainly didn't go out anywhere smart in such clothes. "What are you up to?" she asked.

"Nothing!" Bella retorted throwing a swift glance in Molly's direction. Seeing the suspicious look on her sister's face she realised she was going to have to offer some explanation, "I'm just going out for a walk with Tom Stimpson." She saw Molly's eyes widen in surprise,

"Blimey, Bella. That's a bit quick, 'aint it?

"It's not like that, Molly." She replied, "I made a sort of bet with him that I could find a badgers' sett. So I've got to prove it. I don't want him thinking I'm a welcher."

Molly looked disbelieving. "You're telling me you can find a badgers' sett?" Bella nodded and Molly continued, "Where are you going?"

"Hester Rise wherever that is. Tom's calling for me."

Molly almost laughed at the absurdity of her sister scouring around the countryside looking for a badgers' sett and said, "Well, good luck to you but I don't know why he didn't just ask you to the pictures like any other lad."

When the doorbell rang ten minutes later, Bella rushed to the front door calling out goodbye to Molly before she had a chance to see or speak to Tom. Molly glanced through the lounge window and caught sight of them disappearing down the drive together on foot. The tall figure of Tom, dressed in grey trousers and an open neck shirt, striding along with Bella at his side, the top of her head level with his shoulder. She saw Bella turn her head sideways to glance at him with a happy smile on her face and shook her head at the sight. Bella might tell her it was nothing '_like that'_ but Molly didn't believe her.

William came rushing into the room dressed in his pyjamas and ready for bed after having his bath. Molly had listened carefully whilst she was upstairs running the bath water but there had definitely been no noisy clankings from the boiler. In fact, everything seemed very peaceful in the house. She didn't sense that there was anything she needed to fear in spite of feeling apprehensive on returning to the house after the conversation with Sally Phillpotts that morning. She had said nothing to Bella about her concerns because it all seemed so silly and there was no need to worry anyone else. She wondered if she was just thinking too much about finally settling down here after years of moving around from place to place and that wanting to fit in and be part of the community of Nethercombe was causing her to worry in a way she hadn't before.

"Can you read the Pooh story, Mummy?" William asked her eagerly. Molly realised he was talking about _The House at Pooh Corner _that Bella had mentioned this morning and sadly shook her head,

"Sorry, Will, I don't think we've got that." William looked disappointed and pouted so she said, "Tell you what; Daddy and me have to go to Cirencester tomorrow for my appointment with the doctor. Why don't I see if I can find it in the bookshop there?" He still looked a little downcast and Molly trying to engage his interest said, "How about _The Wind in the Willows. _I think the last time we read it Toad had been sent to prison. I wonder what Ratty and Mole can do to help him?" Thankfully her enthusiasm worked. He nodded his approval at her and she told him to run along upstairs and get into bed.

"I'll be up in a minute!" She called after him.

It was after seven o'clock now. Charles had said he would be home later this evening but Molly thought she might make use of the time while Bella was out and William asleep, to talk to Charles about her concerns. He was always good at putting her mind at rest. This morning he had seemed a little bit tetchy and she still wondered if it was the mention of Smithy but she was sure that he'd be in a happier mood after spending some time in the Blacksmith's arms with friends and colleagues. He always assured her that he was glad to have left the RAF but she was nevertheless sure that he missed the friendships and camaraderie he had enjoyed.

"Mummy!" She heard William calling her from his bedroom and she reached up to the bookcase to retrieve _The Wind in the Willows_ before slowly making her way upstairs.

* * *

Bella and Tom turned left out of the drive of Greystones and followed the main road that wound its way along the east side of the valley for about half a mile until Tom indicated a stile over a low stone wall which led into some woodland situated on steeply rising ground to their left. As they strolled along the road, Tom asked Bella about her life in London and she told him about the two jobs she had left and how much she detested secretarial work.

"I only did the college course to please Mum. She said offices would always need secretaries and I'd never be short of work. The first job ended when old man Davis, my boss, died. But I couldn't stand the second one. That's why I left last month. It just 'aint my cup of tea, at all. In fact, I spent half my time making cups of tea for the managers."

Tom laughed at the image of Bella being compelled to demurely make and serve cups of tea all day. It was very much at odds with the girl he saw before him.

"Oi. Don't laugh." She scolded him, "Anyway, what about you? What are you gonna do when your National Service is over? Carry on running errands for your Dad?"

Tom shrugged. It was a fair question. "I'd like to see something of the world. Perhaps I'll stay in the army if I like it. I could get posted anywhere then."

They had reached the stile and Tom said, "This path leads up to Nethercombe Heath where the airfield is and you can get over to Cookham as well. In fact, it's the shortest route to Cookham on foot. The highest point up there," Tom indicated a large slab of a rock face some distance further above them in the valley, "Is Hester Rise itself. You can see right across the valley from there."

They climbed the stile and entered the woodland. Tom turned to Bella, "Well, it's up to you now. You said you could find a badger's sett. Go on then." He grinned at her, clearly relishing seeing her challenged but she looked undaunted and simply set off up the path without a backward glance. She hadn't gone very far from the entrance to the woods when she said,

"Look, over there. See that mound of earth?" Tom saw what looked like a large pile of fresh earth sitting on sloping ground, "That's where they've dug out tunnels. And look over there can you see that trail?" She pointed to a well-worn narrow track through the undergrowth leading from the edge of the wood towards the earthy mound. "They like to use the same trails and wander about outside the woods. Sometimes you can see the tracks going straight across the middle of fields." She carried on moving about cautiously whilst Tom watched from a distance until she waved at him beckoning him over. He ambled towards her. "Look." She whispered, "There in the side of the hill. Can you see those holes below the tree root?" Tom looked to where she was pointing and saw a hole shaped like a D on its side. It was wider than it was tall and certainly the right shape for a badger. "That's one entrance to a sett and I bet there are some others around here." She carried on looking and eventually pointed to some other similar shape holes in the ground. Tom was impressed. He had wondered if she was bluffing about her knowledge but she clearly had learned something from her time in the countryside.

"D'you know what?" Bella said excitedly, "If we sat somewhere quiet like, up wind from the sett, we might even catch a sight of them. It's summer and they sometimes come out to play earlier this time of year."

Tom smiled. He didn't mind settling down somewhere with Bella for a while and said, "Alright, let's see."

They sat out of sight a little further up the slope, partially hidden by the undergrowth and Bella insisted that they keep quiet and not move. Tom was very conscious of her proximity to him. He could smell the rose-like scent she used and her hair was brushing against his shoulder. It was a pity that they couldn't talk and after thirty minutes his legs started to get stiff and he found himself shifting position. Apart from being close to Bella this was not as much fun as he hoped. Then suddenly, he was startled by the sight of the distinctive black and white snout of a badger emerging from one of the sett entrances. Bella was nudging him and grinning. The badger was cautious sniffing the air and checking for danger but eventually emerged fully into the open. Within a few minutes it was followed by two others, sniffing the air and wandering around cautiously and then to their utter delight they saw the badgers starting to play, rolling about and chasing each other. They watched for at least fifteen minutes before Tom whispered,

"Bella, I've got to get up, my leg's gone to sleep." To his relief, she nodded at him and careful not to disturb the badgers they crept away from the scene until they were far enough to speak in normal voices.

"Well, I won my bet, didn't I?" Bella exclaimed with a look of triumph on her face.

Tom pulled a face, "Was it a bet?"

"You challenged me. You know you did." Bella said with spirit, "So, I reckon I should win something as a prize."

Tom laughed, "Like five bob or something?"

Bella sighed, "There you go again, Tom Stimpson, assuming all I care about is money and stuff."

Tom moved a little closer to her and reached out his hand towards her, daring to lightly catch a strand of her long dark hair between his thumb and index finger. He lowered his voice, "So, what do you want then?"

Bella stood still allowing him to keep hold of the hair strand. She smiled, mysteriously, "I want something that money can't buy."

Tom took a final step forward, closing the remaining distance between them. Bella looked up at him, very conscious of his physical presence and said softly, "Show me the view from the top of Hester Rise." He let the strand of her hair fall and she turned away from him with a giggle. He sighed and then managed to smile at himself. He knew she was playing a game with him, but watching her walking away from him and starting to climb the steep path up to viewpoint at Hester Rise, he realised that he wouldn't have it any other way.

The path was narrow and wound its way through the woods and upwards towards the exposed rock face that locals referred to as Hester Rise. The top of the rock was level and provided a spectacular view of the valley from above the treetops. The main path wound its way up to the rock and then to the flatter heathland and the village of Cookham beyond. As the path became narrower and steeper Tom moved ahead of Bella to show her the way. The climb was hard work and her shoes slipped once or twice on the stones and earth causing her to hastily put out a hand to steady herself. As they drew near the top she became conscious that there were some very steep drops on the right hand side of the path and she began to wonder for the first time if she had been wise to suggest this. Tom was purposeful and sure-footed and she drew confidence from the idea that he must have climbed this path on many previous occasions.

Eventually, they reached the top of Hester Rise and Bella stepped out onto the flat rock admiring the spectacular view of the valley bathed in the pink and amber glow of sunset. She smiled, almost lost for words at the incredibly beautiful sight.

"Now that _is_ something money can't buy." She said softly.

Tom was standing some distance behind her. She turned her head to look at him, "Come and see this, Tom."

He coughed slightly and said, "I'm fine here, thanks."

Bella looked at his face and realised he wasn't comfortable. "Don't you like heights?" she asked.

"Not really." He admitted.

She looked at him with a degree of sympathy in her expression that surprised him, "You should have said, Tom. I wouldn't have mentioned coming up here if I'd known."

He'd gritted his teeth on the narrow parts of the path with the drops on one side, determined not to look weak in Bella's eyes.

"Will you be alright, walking down again?" she asked.

"Well, there is another less steep path which circles around the top before joining up again further down the hill, but there's one tricky place where you need to take a bit of a run and jump." Tom said carefully.

"That sounds alright to me, if you'd rather go that way." Bella conceded and she saw him nod in reply.

The alternative path was more level with a fairly gradual descent although it was a longer walk. The sunset had signalled the start of fading light and without a torch between them both Bella and Tom realised that they would need to get back to the road before it was completely dark or risk stumbling around on uneven ground. They had descended about half the way to the road when Tom stopped and looking back at Bella saying, "This is the tricky part. There's a narrow gorge in the rocks ahead about two or three feet wide. There used to be a little bridge across it that someone put up years ago and the planks are still there but I wouldn't stand on it, if I were you. They're pretty rotten. It's quite a long way down." Bella followed him down the last twenty yards to the edge of the gorge and glanced cautiously over the precipice. He was right she thought; it must be a good hundred feet or more to the bottom of the gorge. It was dark and narrow and the rock face was covered in ferns and green moss. She shivered at the sight and felt distinctly uncomfortable

"Look, I'll go first." Tom said, "Show you how it's done."

He took ten paces back from the edge and ran at it leaping across the bridge of rotten planks to the other side of the path, clearing the gap with ease and landing squarely on the path the other side. He turned to face Bella. "Your turn. Just do the same as me and you'll be fine." He called.

Bella had never been frightened of heights but something was making her legs turn to jelly. She shivered in spite of the fact that she hadn't been cold just now and her heart started to pound. She looked over at Tom and he saw that she was panic stricken.

"Just run and jump and I'll catch you." He stood directly opposite her his arms outstretched. "Come on Bella!" he urged.

In spite of how she was feeling, she took several paces backwards and willed herself to run. Her legs felt heavy as she tried to pick up enough speed to launch herself forwards. As she leapt into the air she felt a surge of terror that she had never experienced before. A scream echoed through the woods almost deafening her and she realised the sound was coming from her own mouth. Her right foot landed just beyond the rotten planks on the path but the left missed and slipped back into the gorge. She felt herself stumbling backwards and screamed again but a strong pair of arms grasped her firmly and dragged her back, up out of the blackness and into the safety of his embrace.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was almost eight o'clock before Molly heard the sound of the Austin on the drive outside. She walked into the hall to greet Charles. She was surprised that he looked so tired and careworn considering he'd just come from a sociable drink at the Blacksmith's Arms with Donald and a few other airfield employees. When she reached up to kiss him he pulled her to him and hugged her close burying his face in her hair and taking in the comforting feel and scent of her.

"I missed you, today." He said simply. His voice sounded flat. He didn't tell her, of course, that the lunchtime meeting with Gerald Harker had been playing on his mind all afternoon and that his sense of unease and uncertainty was growing. He realised now that he should have told Molly about this meeting no matter what his previous misgivings had been. He considered her to be his business partner even if the law said she was not and he should have told her about something that could have an impact on operations at the airfield. He wished she had been there with him at lunchtime today. She would have formed an opinion on Gerald Harker. Now, however, after the fact, he felt awkward about broaching the subject and afraid of her reaction if he did. She might justifiably be hurt by having been excluded or believe that he didn't trust her enough to tell her about it. His instincts after the meeting were telling him to walk away from any involvement but he was afraid that if he told Molly about the proposal now she would see some merit in the arrangement and he would either feel obliged to go along with the venture, against his better judgment, or cause a disagreement between himself and Molly over the matter. He knew he had made a mistake and it bothered him.

"Are you hungry?" She murmured, "I've left you some dinner."

Charles felt guilty considering the sumptuous meal Gerald Harker had stood him at lunchtime and said casually,

"I'm fine I'll just get a sandwich later, don't worry."

"It's no trouble, honest, I've got it all ready for you." Molly continued.

"I'm fine!" He said insistently feeling even guiltier and released her. He looked around him wanting to change the subject. "Where's Bella?"

Molly grinned at him and replied, "Out walking in the woods with a young man."

Charles was surprised by this news, particularly as they had only moved into the house three days ago and knew so few people and he said, "Do you think that's a good idea?"

Molly wasn't sure from his tone of voice whether he was serious and replied, "What harm can she come to? It's only with Tom Stimpson, the delivery lad."

Charles gave Molly a long, knowing look remembering occasions in the past and said with a hint of sarcasm, "Well, we all know nothing can happen during a walk in the woods. Don't we?"

Molly was genuinely taken aback by his attitude, "Meaning what? What are you trying to say, Charles?"

He gestured around him, "Well, she's staying here with us. You're her older sister and we're responsible for her. Did you think it was a good idea after three days to let her go out with some lad you don't even know?"

Molly began to feel annoyed at his attitude and the tone of his voice and glared at him, "As a matter of fact, I met his father today and he seems like a very decent sort of bloke. And it might have escaped your notice but Bella isn't a little kid. She's seventeen and she don't need me babysitting her."

"No. Perhaps not." He agreed, "But she's still a minor. When will she be back?"

Molly shrugged. Bella hadn't given her enough time to ask before leaving in a hurry with Tom.

"I see." Charles responded tersely. "So you don't where she is or when she'll be back?"

Molly gave him a long look before saying, "I don't know what the matter is with you tonight, Charles, but don't use Bella going out with a young lad as an excuse to get annoyed with me." She stared at him expecting a reply or an apology but when he didn't respond she added, "If you must know, she's gone somewhere called Hester Rise to look for badgers!"

Molly didn't wait for an answer but turned on her heel and walked back to the kitchen. She couldn't believe that Charles was overreacting about Bella taking a walk with a young lad and annoyed that he was suggesting she was being irresponsible in some way. She picked up the plate of food carefully placed to one side which she had been intending to reheat for Charles' supper, tempted for a second to throw it on the floor but in the end she put it away in the larder, slamming the old door shut behind her. She would probably end up throwing the food away tomorrow anyway given the warm weather. She took a deep breath. She had hoped she would have an opportunity to talk to Charles about her own concerns but he was being uncharacteristically tetchy. She hadn't seen him like this for a long time, certainly not since he'd left the RAF and even when he had been irritated by one of his colleagues or had a difficult day it seldom lasted long. They had both been so busy in the period after Charles left the RAF and energised by everything they had needed to do to get their new business venture operational that there hadn't been time for any petty arguments and this certainly did seem to have developed from absolutely nothing.

Molly heard the lounge door open and a couple of minutes later the sound of the radio sparking into life as _'Much-Binding-In-The-Marsh'_ began on the BBC Light Programme. Charles always enjoyed the comedy and the topical song the cast performed at the end. Perhaps it would lighten his mood and shake him out of himself Molly thought and feeling suddenly tired not only by the day's events but also by the waste of energy on pointless arguments, she decided to leave him to his own devices rather than attempt another conversation. She went upstairs to check on William. His door was ajar and he was sound asleep. Just the gentle sound of his breathing disturbed the peace of the room. She glanced at the empty bedroom door. She had kept it firmly shut as well as the windows since last night but there was nothing but silence from that end of the house. Tiredness overcame any further concerns and despite the early hour she decided to go to bed. If Charles wanted to act responsibly, she thought, then let him act the concerned adult and wait up for Bella.

* * *

Bella was shaking, her teeth were chattering and her legs were weak. She was relying on Tom's strength to hold her upright as they stood on the path the other side of the rotten bridge next to the gorge. Tom was trying to think of something comforting to say but in truth he was just as shocked as Bella. The moment when she had slipped backwards into the gorge had been the worst of his life. He had acted on pure instinct managing to grasp her arms and pull her towards him before she dragged him backwards with her.

He felt such a fool now for suggesting they go this way. Some locals used the path but very few since the bridge became too dangerous to rely upon. Even his own father had warned him off going this way when he was anxious to take a shortcut to catch a train at Cookham Halt station. On that occasion he'd listened to him and spent the extra thirty minutes on foot following the road round the long way. He was holding Bella close to him and patting her back, mimicking the type of gesture he remembered his mother using when he was a small boy and upset about something. He didn't know the point of doing it but it had always seemed to help. Bella seemed to be shaking less and he said tentatively, "Do you feel a bit better?" She looked up at him. Her face was pale, her eyes still wide with fear and confusion but no hint of any tears. She replied in a trembling voice,

"I don't know what came over me. I was just suddenly so scared. I couldn't jump properly. If I'd fallen…." Her voice trailed away and Tom said hastily,

"You didn't and I wouldn't have let you." He hugged her closer to him and she didn't seem to object. The light was fading and amongst the trees it was growing even darker.

"We'd better make our way back." Tom said quietly, "Can you walk down with me if I hold your hand? It's fairly easy from here."

Bella had stopped shaking and looked around her. "I don't like it here. I just want to get away from here, now." She glanced up at him, "I'll be alright on my own, thanks."

He released her and she stepped away from him. She shivered again and then turning began to make her way hastily back down the path. Tom was surprised at the way she had suddenly started to move away from him so swiftly and hurried after her. She kept up the same pace for the next ten minutes until they had finally reached the stile over the wall back at the roadside. As he caught up with her she was already half way across the stile.

"Bella, wait for me." He called but she didn't look back or speak and kept on walking at a brisk pace heading for Greystones.

* * *

Charles turned off the radio as '_Much-Binding-In-The-Marsh'_ finished. It normally made him laugh, especially the comical song at the end which joked about the plot of the episode. He'd enjoyed the comedy since it started during the war, particularly as it had initially been set on a fictional RAF station and reminded him of all the absurdities of service life. Today it had failed to raise a smile. He hadn't meant to be annoyed with Molly. It had been the last thing on his mind before he got home. He didn't really blame her and he knew his sister-in-law well enough by now to realise that she was unlikely to be deterred by anything Molly said. She reminded him so much of Molly when they had first met. When Molly had her mind set on something she simply did what she thought was right even if occasionally she was wrong. He had heard her go upstairs but she hadn't returned and he assumed it was better to let things lie for now.

He wandered along to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich before walking out into the garden. It was nine o'clock and still light although the sun was beginning to sink westwards as the sky on the horizon gradually turned red. He remembered watching another sunset with Molly during the war and then cringed at his clumsy comment about walking in the woods. Nothing untoward had happened on that occasion during the war and it was wrong of him to cast aspersions about Bella or a lad he didn't know. _'Looking for badgers'_ Molly had said. He smirked and thought to himself it was just crazy enough to be true. Having finished his sandwich, he sat down on the bench in the garden to wait for Bella.

It was nearly ten o'clock and the light had almost gone when Charles heard the sound of two sets of feet advancing rapidly across the gravel of the drive just around the corner from where he was sitting. He heard a young man's voice call urgently.

"Bella! Wait for me."

The feet continued to move towards him without any slowing of pace.

"Have I done something?" The lad called again.

He heard the feet stop and then Bella's voice, "No, Nothing. It's not you. I'm sorry Tom. I just didn't like that place. There's something wrong about it. I can't explain and I just wanted to get away as fast I could." She sounded upset and Charles was concerned.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I shouldn't have suggested going there." Tom replied

Charles, alarmed by what he was hearing but also conscious of eavesdropping, was about to step forward when he heard Bella say, "It's not your fault. You haven't done anything." There was a pause. "Let's just forget about it and say goodnight, shall we?"

There was a moment's silence and Charles felt awkward, unwilling to move in case he disturbed them kissing goodnight. However, a moment later he heard Tom's voice, evidently having moved further away from Bella, calling out in a fairly impersonal tone, "Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight!" She replied in the same almost matter-of-fact way and he heard the front door open and shut behind her. He quickly made his way around to the kitchen door and managed to enter the house before she appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"Hello Charles." He looked at her face and saw that she seemed troubled.

"Had a nice evening?" He enquired, "I understand you were looking for badgers."

She brightened a little, "Yes, found them 'an all. Mind you, I didn't like that place up in the woods much. To be honest it gave me the collywobbles."

The overheard conversation with Tom began to make sense and he said casually, "And how was your company? Young Tom Stimpson, I understand."

Bella looked at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes. "Molly ask you to enquire, did she?"

Charles shook his head, "Not at all. She's gone to bed."

Bella said quietly "Don't worry. He was a total gent." She yawned, "But I'm not used to all this walking about late at night. I'm off to bed. Goodnight, Charles."

He noted that she seemed more subdued than normal but he was reassured that she had come to no harm and said, "Goodnight, Bella."

Charles locked the front and rear doors of the house. He heard Bella moving around upstairs for a while before silence descended. He wandered into the lounge and helped himself to a small glass of whisky which he drank whilst contemplating the events of the day. He'd promised to talk to Richard Murray tomorrow when he drove into Cirencester with Molly and let him know his decision. He drained the last of his whisky and knew that for better or worse he had made up his mind.

Turning off the lights in the house he quietly climbed the stairs. Only a small light on the landing upstairs was visible. No light was showing from the crack under Bella's door. He went to the bathroom and when he came out again became aware of a quiet, high-pitched voice speaking. After a few seconds he realised it was William. He crept towards the bedroom door that was slightly ajar and looked in. To his surprise, William was sitting bolt upright in bed and talking. He heard him say, "Don't worry. It'll all come out in the wash." He smiled to himself at hearing his small son repeating Molly's sayings. He reasoned that William must be dreaming and knew it was important not to wake him suddenly. He stepped into the room very quietly and knelt down by his bed. William turned to him, his eyes wide open and said, "Hello Daddy."

"Hello, Will. Why don't you lie down again? You should be sleeping." William obediently lay down and snuggled under the covers, closing his eyes and Charles tucked him in and ruffled his hair.

"Goodnight, Scamp!" He pulled William's door to and moved along the landing to the bedroom he shared with Molly.

Molly appeared to be asleep, a halo of dark hair fanned out on the pillow around her head. Charles undressed as quietly as he could and pulling back the covers slipped in beside her. Molly stirred next to him and said sleepily,

"What time is it?"

"Just after eleven o'clock." Charles replied.

"I thought I heard voices just now." She said quietly.

"Will was dreaming. Did you know he talks in his sleep?" Charles asked.

"Never heard him do that before." She replied.

Charles rolled onto his side and reached out to touch her face. "Molly!"

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I was in a strange mood, when I got home. I didn't mean to get annoyed. It was stupid."

"Yes, it was." She said softly, "Come here. It's easier for you to move than me with this bump."

He slid across, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. "I'm sorry, Molly."

"I know." She replied

His hand moved down to her stomach and he gently ran his fingers across the bump. "It's a lovely bump." He murmured, "In fact, it's almost as lovely as a few other bumps I could name."

* * *

William had finished his breakfast much to Molly's surprise. She normally had to cajole him to eat the last of his porridge in the morning.

"Golly, Will, you polished that off pretty quick this morning." He grinned at her as she asked, "Would you like some more?" To her great surprise he nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, please, Mummy."

She turned back to the saucepan on the stove and spooned some more of the porridge into his bowl before putting a tiny blob of jam in the centre. There wasn't much Jam left in the pot and with it being rationed, she couldn't let him eat as much as he wanted. She set the bowl in front of him and said, "You must be a hungry boy this morning. It's all that talking in your sleep Daddy told me about. Must be giving you an appetite."

William turned his big brown eyes upon her. "I wasn't asleep, Mummy."

Molly looked at him, "Daddy said you were dreaming and were sat up talking when he went in to see you, last night."

William shook his head, "I was talking to the sad lady."

Molly looked at him nonplussed. His face was serious. "What do you mean, _the sad lady_, Will?"

He looked up at her and said innocently, "She was sitting on my bed and crying, Mummy, and she had on Auntie Bella's necklace."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"Charles, I need to talk to you!"

He was standing in front of the wardrobe mirror watching himself knot his tie but the urgency in Molly's voice, as she burst into the room, immediately drew his attention. One look at her face confirmed that something was very wrong.

"What's the matter?" He asked turning towards her.

Molly shut the bedroom door behind her, sat down on the bed and took a deep breath.

"Are you alright?" Charles asked.

She nodded, "Yes. It's not me or at least I don't think it is." She saw Charles frown. "What do you know about this house or the people who owned it before us?"

Charles was momentarily confused by the question. More than that; he was rooted to the spot by surprise. Could Molly have found out about his meeting with Gerald Harker, yesterday? He started to rack his brains to think how she might have discovered it when she said, "Things have been happening here. Things that I can't make sense of." She could tell that she had Charles' full attention. He was watching her intently and he said cautiously,

"What do you mean?"

She replied hesitantly, "First it was that cupboard in the spare bedroom where me and Bella found the locket hidden at the back. Two nights ago I found the cupboard door moving backwards and forwards when there was no breeze or reason for it to be moving on its own." She glanced up at him and saw that he was still watching her closely so she continued. "Then I was talking to a woman called Sally Phillpotts in the village. She used to be the Daily here for Mrs Harker and I know she was trying _not_ to say anything but she mentioned noises in the house. She tried to cover it up by saying it was the boiler but I know damn well there's nothing wrong with that boiler and she refused to live-in here." She looked at Charles again. He was still listening intently, so she took a final breath and said quietly, "Worst of all, Will's just told me that when you found him talking last night he wasn't asleep." She paused and Charles said,

"Go on."

"He said he was talking to a sad lady who was sitting on his bed and wearing Bella's necklace." She waited for Charles' reaction.

The moment Molly had started talking about the cupboard in the spare room he had felt relief flood through him that she wasn't about to confront him over his clandestine meeting but he swiftly realised he was dealing with another problem altogether. In the end after she had finished speaking he said, "What are you trying to suggest?"

Molly looked him straight in the eye, "You know what I'm suggesting."

He sighed and shook his head which Molly interpreted as a gesture of disbelief, "That this house is haunted and Will's been having midnight chats with ghosts?" He eventually offered with just the hint of a smirk on his face.

Molly wished he hadn't sounded dismissive. "It's not a joke, Charles." She stared at him, "I'm telling you something's just not right here."

He crossed the room, sat down next to her on the end of the bed and put his arm around her shoulders pulling her closer to him.

"Look, Molly, I can see something's disturbing you, but old houses do creak and make noises and as for Will, well, he's just a small child. They make up stories or perhaps he really was dreaming and that's what he thought was happening. It's not really very likely that he was talking to a ghost, is it?"

Molly sighed, "I know it sounds far-fetched, but it's possible, isn't it?"

Charles shook his head, "Only if you believe in the existence of ghosts and I don't know anyone who's ever seen one."

"Apart from your own son!" Molly retorted.

Charles stood up and walked across to the window. Looking out, he could see Bella sitting quietly on a bench in the garden. William was close by and he could just about hear the sound of his chattering. Was it possible, he wondered? He'd never been given to flights of fancy about the supernatural or given credence to stories he'd heard recounted. He'd always assumed that some people either had very vivid imaginations or were easily suggestible. He would never have considered Molly to be that type of person. Before he could respond she said,

"I just realised that we don't know anything much about this house. All I've heard is that Mrs Harker lived here until she died six months ago and that her relatives were selling the place. Do you know anything else?"

Charles recalled Gerald Harker talking yesterday about visiting his uncle when he was a boy but beyond that he knew very little.

"Didn't you say you were going to see the solicitor today?" Molly continued, "Couldn't you ask him about it? Or perhaps I could come with you and ask him myself. I just need to know more, Charles."

Charles hesitated. He'd told Molly he had to go over some papers relating to the airfield lease with Richard but in truth he'd made up his mind to decline the business offer that Gerald Harker had put to him and was intending to ask Richard to relay the news to him. Yesterday he'd felt there was an undercurrent to the conversation that concerned him and he was worried that his refusal might not be an end to the matter. He didn't want Molly to be involved in any meetings like that. He was keen to keep her away and so nodded and said,

"Alright, just for you, I will ask him if he can give me any more information but don't expect to hear anything particularly illuminating."

She stood up, crossed the room to him and reaching up gave him a kiss.

"Thanks, Charles."

He reached out and gently placed his hand on the swell of her abdomen, "Perhaps, this one's just making you more tense than you realise." He said quietly.

She looked up at him, "Nice try, Charles, but just 'cos I'm having a baby don't mean I've lost my marbles. You should know me better than that."

* * *

Dr Sanderson washed his hands and wiped them dry on the towel the nurse had laid out for him before turning back to Molly who was settling herself down in the chair opposite him after the examination. "Well, everything seems to be going along well, Mrs James. The baby has a good strong heartbeat….once located. He or she is obviously very active." He smiled at her and she thought to herself, it was alright for him to joke. She'd been the one lying flat on her back for ten long minutes with the weight of the baby pressing down on her spine while he'd moved the wooden Pinard Horn around her abdomen trying to detect the heartbeat as well as palpating her abdomen. "Your blood pressure is very good as well. The only comment I'd make is that you do seem a little big for the dates. Perhaps, things are a little further advanced than you thought, maybe three or four weeks?" He looked questioningly at her and Molly shrugged.

"I don't think so, Dr Sanderson. Maybe it's just a big baby?" She suggested.

"Mmh, well that may be a possibility," He agreed, "But perhaps, to be on the safe side, I could see you again in say, three weeks and we'll see how things are then."

Molly nodded and stood up, "Thank you, doctor."

"Goodbye Mrs James."

She made another appointment with the receptionist for three weeks' time before leaving the surgery and stepping back onto Market Place. She had arranged to meet Charles at The Fleece opposite at midday but it was only half past eleven now as she had been able to see Dr Sanderson earlier than she had expected. She supposed she could browse around the shops for half an hour but she had already popped into the bookshop on her way to the doctor's surgery and purchased a copy of _The House at Pooh Corner_ for Will before putting it away in her handbag. She decided instead to wander down Market Place to the offices of _Murray &amp; Parslow_ to meet Charles. She could wait for him in the reception area and it would save her sitting self-consciously in the lounge bar of The Fleece with the possibility of him being late.

Murray &amp; Parslow's offices were located in an eighteenth century town house just beyond Market Place. Molly pushed open the shiny, black, regency style front door and turned to a room on her left which was the reception area. The smartly dressed Receptionist greeted her and she advised that she was waiting for her husband before settling herself down in one of the comfortable leather chairs that lined the walls of the room.

Richard Murray, accepted the news that Charles was declining Gerald Harker's business proposal with a degree of equanimity that Charles found surprising.

"It's a pity," Richard said, "but I daresay you have your reasons."

"Yes, "Charles replied, "One actually and it's fairly simple. I've learned that if something seems too good to be true, it usually is."

Richard looked taken aback, "Meaning what, exactly?"

"Surely, I don't have to spell this out to you?" Charles said pointedly.

Richard gave him a long look before answering, "No, you don't"

Charles sighed, "Look, whatever, this has been about, Richard, I have no intention of ever discussing it again. Is that fair enough?"

Richard nodded, "Yes. Understood."

Charles stood up to leave but remembered his promise to Molly. "There's, just one thing, Richard. Can you possibly tell me anything about the history of Greystones or Mrs Harker?"

When Charles came out of Richard's office he was surprised to see Molly sitting in the reception room. She smiled in welcome and stood up to greet him.

"I was early, so I thought I'd wait for you. That's alright isn't it?"

"Of course." He said, "Let's go and get some lunch."

They hadn't walked a dozen steps from the entrance before Molly remembered that she had left her gloves on the arm of the chair in the reception room. "I'll just fetch them and catch you up." She called turning back towards the office. As she opened the main front door she heard Richard Murray calling to the Receptionist, "I'll be out this afternoon. Can you call Gerald Harker for me and confirm tomorrow's appointment at eleven o'clock." The name struck her immediately and when she heard his office door shut she went back into the room and retrieved the white cotton gloves still lying across the arm of the chair. The Receptionist was already on the telephone and Molly waved the gloves at her, mouthing "I forgot them." The woman smiled and nodded. As Molly went out of the room she heard her saying hastily to someone on the other end of the telephone,

"Could you put me through to Mr Harker's extension, please?"

Molly caught up with Charles half-way along Market Place and he held out his arm to her. They walked arm in arm to The Fleece and went into the lounge bar to order some drinks and food. Sitting at a table in a quiet corner waiting for Charles to return with a lemonade and a pint of bitter, Molly wondered if there was any connection between old Mrs Harker and the man Richard Murray had named. She concluded that it was too much of a coincidence and resolved to say something to Charles. When he returned however, he pre-empted her question by saying conversationally,

"I asked Richard Murray about Greystones and Mrs Harker, by the way, but I didn't find out very much, I'm afraid."

"Oh!" He saw Molly's face fall, "What did he tell you, then?"

"Just that the house was bought in 1909 by a Maurice Harker who was married to a lady called Louisa Harker. That's about all he knows. Mrs Harker lived in the house until her death at the start of this year. He didn't know Mrs Harker personally he only handled the sale for her relatives, that is, for her nephew, I believe. That's all. I'm sorry if you were hoping for more, but I don't think he can help." He took a sip of his beer and glanced at Molly. He could see the wheels in her mind turning as she considered this information. At last she said,

"Well what about her relatives, the nephew who sold it. Couldn't we speak to him? He must know about it."

Charles had anticipated this and the last thing he wanted was to have any further contact with Gerald Harker. Richard's reaction had been better than anticipated and he had hoped that the matter was at an end.

"I really don't think that would be a good idea. Richard gave me the impression there was very little contact between them. Besides, it's really none of our business, is it? After all, we're going to look pretty stupid asking him if the house is haunted." He looked meaningfully at Molly and she could tell that as far as he was concerned the matter was closed.

She was disappointed by his attitude, not only this morning when she had voiced her concerns and he had appeared disbelieving, even amused by her suggestion but now he was being uncooperative and dismissive of what she considered a perfectly reasonable course of action. She noted that he had already changed the subject and was talking about a conversation he had had with Donald at the Blacksmith's Arms last night. She listened with only half an ear, making occasional comments but her mind was elsewhere thinking about Greystones and the Harkers.

As they left The Fleece, Charles remarked that he'd like to call in at the tailor's and in that moment Molly made a decision about an idea she had been toying with the whole time they had been sitting in The Fleece. "While you're there I'll go to the bookshop and get the book that Will wanted." She replied fully aware that he had no knowledge of her previous visit to the bookshop and she watched him stride off in the opposite direction making sure that he had turned the corner and was definitely out of sight before she hurried along Market Place back to the offices of _Murray and Parslow. _All the time he had been talking she had been distracted by the frustration of not being able to find out anything more that would help her settle her concerns. However, as they left The Fleece she made up her mind. She knew what Charles' had said but she couldn't help thinking that he was wrong. As she stood outside the solicitor's office she took a deep breath and told herself, that she was only going to tell a small white lie and that ultimately Charles would understand.

The Receptionist was sitting behind her desk and looked up as Molly entered the room. She smiled on recognising her and said politely, "Can I help you, Mrs James?"

Molly stepped forward, "I'm very sorry to disturb you but my husband asked if I could call in. He has another appointment but he's mislaid Mr Harker's telephone number and needs to contact him about their meeting tomorrow with Mr Murray. I wonder if you could be so good as to give me the number for him." She smiled brightly trying to look as innocent as she possibly could. The receptionist hesitated for no more than half a second before reaching for her address book and searching for the page lettered 'H'. She looked up and said, "Would he like the home or office number?"

Molly paused briefly before saying, "Home, I think."

The Receptionist looked down at the book and reached for a piece of paper to write the details upon. As she did so Molly glanced at the page and saw there was an address in the book. She craned her neck and reading upside down just about managed to make out the name 'Willow Dean House, Marshford. She glanced away in time to avoid the Receptionist's notice and accepted the note with Gerald Harker's telephone number with many thanks. As she left the offices and stepped out onto the pavement, however, she was overcome with a feeling of guilt. It was clear Charles hadn't wanted her to pursue Mrs Harker's relatives for information but in her mind he had given her no good reason not to talk to them. She could invent all manner of excuses for wanting information. She was sure it would be possible to ask a few reasonable questions without the risk of sounding like a lunatic. She didn't like going behind Charles' back but on this occasion she felt sure he was wrong and if she took care to be discreet he need not find out what she had done.

* * *

Although Nethercombe was situated only three quarters of a mile from Greystones, by the time she had covered half the distance Bella was beginning to regret the decision to walk there with William. Normally a reasonably good walker, he was in an uncooperative mood today, dawdling behind in the lane and deliberately scuffing his shoes despite Bella's attempts to cajole him and then scold him. "Mummy won't be very happy with you, Will, if she's got to polish your shoes again today." He looked at her and then surreptitiously scuffed the toe again checking to see whether she had noticed and if so, what her reaction would be. She sighed and pretended not to see. She wasn't feeling in a very good mood either. The events at Hester Rise last night had continued to play on her mind. She hadn't slept well and had woken from a disturbing dream in which she had been running through the woods and had slipped into the gorge. It wasn't surprising she supposed as that was exactly what had almost happened yesterday. Above all she was sorry about the way she had behaved afterwards. She hadn't been able to explain to Tom, just how terrified she had felt. She had never experienced a fear like that and her overriding instinct had been to leave that place as fast as she could. She hadn't given him any consideration. She cringed remembering their parting last night. She had been cold, almost unfriendly to him and it wasn't his fault. She knew that she liked him very much and realised that he liked her too. Her main reason for walking into Nethercombe today was to find him and apologise. She looked at William again.

"If you stop scuffing your shoes, we can play Pooh Sticks again on the bridge, alright!" He brightened immediately and transformed himself into a happy, small boy again and the last half mile of the walk passed by much more quickly.

True to her word, Bella spent a happy fifteen minutes on the bridge with William. This time it was a much closer contest and they eventually declared it a draw. When they had finished Bella said, "Shall we go to the shop, Will, and see if we can get a currant bun or something, I'm a bit peckish."

William jumped up and down calling, "Yes, please!"

They crossed the Green to Stimpson's General Store and with this being her true purpose for coming to Nethercombe, Bella began to feel nervous but she took a deep breath and pushed opened the shop door. The bell tinkled to announce their arrival and both Mr Stimpson and a customer in the shop turned to look as they entered. Mr Stimpson called, "Good afternoon, Miss. I'll be with you shortly." The customer smiled at Bella and William. He was a tall, slim man with greying hair in his early sixties and Bella noticed that he was wearing a white dog collar and was clearly the local vicar. They loitered at the back of the shop whilst Mr Stimpson continued talking to the reverend. As the conversation ended Mr Stimpson looked over at her and said in a friendly tone, "Would you by any chance be the young lady, who knows my Tom?"

Bella smiled and nodded, "Yes, I'm Bella Dawes."

Stimpson grinned at her, "I met your sister yesterday." He turned to the vicar and said, "Reverend Swinton, this young lady's the sister of Mrs James who's just moved into Greystones."

"How do you do?" Reverend Swinton said politely, "And welcome to Nethercombe. Will we be seeing you on Sunday?"

Bella hesitated. The Dawes family were not strong church-goers tending to confine their appearances to the main events in life: christenings, weddings and funerals. "I'm not sure, Vicar."

He saw her awkwardness and said in a kindly voice, "It's no matter. Perhaps, however, we'll see you all at the Church Fete on Saturday. Here on the Green?"

"Oh, yes, I expect so." Bella said having no idea of anyone's plans.

"You'll not want to miss it." Mr Stimpson cut in, "It's one of the highlights of the social calendar in Nethercombe."

Reverend Swinton laughed, "Quite so, Mr Stimpson." He looked at Bella, "Well, I hope to have the pleasure of seeing everyone on Saturday. It was nice to meet you, Miss Dawes." He nodded and left the shop.

Bella stepped forward grinning sheepishly. "Oh dear, I don't know what Molly'll say when she hears I've volunteered us all for the Church Fete."

Stimpson laughed, "You should all come, it's a good afternoon and you'll get a chance to meet the whole village in one go. Now, how can I help you, young lady?"

Bella looked down at William, "I've got a hungry young man here who'd love a currant bun if you've got any and I would too." She grinned down at William as Mr Stimpson made his way around the counter to the bakery section and put two currant buns in a brown paper bag. As Bella opened her purse to pay she said casually,

"Is Tom around?"

Stimpson wasn't fooled, he gave her a long, knowing look. "Well, as a matter of fact, he isn't. It's his day off and he got up at the crack of dawn and disappeared out for the day. He said he'd be back by teatime." Bella was clearly disappointed. Her face fell a little and she said quietly,

"Oh, I see. Thanks for letting me know."

Stimpson smiled, "I'll tell him you were looking for him and if you come to the Church Fete, you'll be sure to find him. He's running the hoopla stall!"

* * *

When Charles and Molly arrived back at Greystones, they found the house empty. Bella had left a note on the kitchen table saying that she and William had gone for a walk to Nethercombe. Charles was expected back at the airfield as he had pupils booked for flying instruction that afternoon. After a quick ten minute stop to change into his flying suit he drove away again and Molly was left alone in the house. She had been quiet on the drive back to Greystones and Charles had asked her if she was feeling alright, but she had said she was just tired. In truth, she had spent the time thinking of what to say if she phoned Mr Harker. She couldn't come straight out and ask him if the house was haunted. Charles was right about that; she would sound ridiculous. However, if she asked some general questions about the history of the house he might reveal something that would shed light on what she believed was happening and particularly who the 'sad lady' was. She took the number out of her handbag and stared at it for half a minute willing herself to pluck up enough courage to call. She took a deep breath and dialled the number.

The telephone rang eight times before it was answered. Molly was on the point of putting down the receiver when a well-spoken lady answered.

"Marshford 362"

In all of Molly's imagined conversations a woman had never featured. She almost kicked herself, _of course_, it was much more likely that Mr Harker's wife would answer at this time of day.

"Is that Mrs Harker?" She asked tentatively.

"Yes. To whom am I speaking, please?" Mrs Harker responded.

"You don't know me, Mrs Harker. My name is Molly James. My husband bought Greystones."

"Yes, of course. I thought your name sounded familiar. How may I help you, Mrs James."

Molly took a deep breath, "I was interested in the history of the house and I wondered if you could tell me a little bit about the place? Perhaps about Mrs Harker and her husband too?" There was silence at the end of the line and Molly said, "Are you there, Mrs Harker?"

She heard a muffled crackling sound as if the receiver was being passed to someone else and then a man speaking in a clipped upper-class voice came onto the line.

"I don't know how you obtained this number, Mrs James, but I must ask that you don't call again. Thank you. Goodbye."

"I only…." Molly began but the receiver had already been replaced and the line had gone dead.


	7. Chapter 7

**_I apologise for the delay in updating since Chapter Six. This is due to the fact that I have been writing and I am now uploading all six remaining chapters of 'Another Life' in order to conclude the story in one fell swoop! I thought that given the mystery element of this story it would be better not to put these last chapters out in spaced-out instalments and I hope you will enjoy them. _**

**_Thank you to everyone who has read my stories during the last few months. I really appreciate you taking time to do that especially when we all lead such busy lives. I'd also like to thank you for the kind reviews and PM's which have been encouraging and inspired me to keep going. 'Never say never' as the saying goes but I think this will be my last 'Our Girl' story in which case it only remains to say thank you to Tony Grounds for creating the characters that have inspired me to 'have a go' at this writing lark. It has sometimes been hard work, very absorbing, massively time consuming and my family think I have taken permanent root in front of my computer although they have been very patient and tolerant. Ultimately, however, it is something that I've really enjoyed doing. _**

**Chapter Seven**

The sound of the front door being slammed shut startled Molly. She heard footsteps rapidly approaching along the hall towards the kitchen; firm, military steps that she recognised. Charles appeared in the doorway. She could tell immediately that he was angry. There was a grave expression on his face and she sensed the tension in the air. He gave her a look that she had only seen once before, the very first time they had met; a look of disdain and it hurt her beyond words. His eyes didn't leave her face as he said in a deceptively calm voice,

"I'd like to speak to you, Molly." He spoke so quietly that he drew no attention from either Bella or William who were eating tea and chatting to one another at the table.

Molly put down the dishes she had been holding and followed him out of the kitchen and along the hallway. They entered the lounge and he shut the door behind her. He was still standing in front of the door, holding onto the handle when he said in a strained voice,

"What on earth did you think you were doing, calling Gerald Harker and come to that, how the hell did you get his number?"

Molly was rooted to the spot. She felt the blood drain from her face and was almost giddy from the shock of realising Charles had found out what she had done. After the failed attempt to speak to Gerald Harker or his wife yesterday she had hoped that the whole matter would simply be forgotten. She had been confused at the way the phone call had been terminated without explanation and wondered how she could have offended him other than encroaching on his privacy. She stared at Charles trying to think of the right thing to say that would make him understand why she had done it. The silence drew out between them until she said in a faltering voice,

"I just needed to know more about this place, Charles. It just seemed like you didn't want to know. But it matters to me for our family's sake and any life we're going to have here." As she spoke she saw Charles' eyes widen with astonishment.

"Do you think for one minute, that my family doesn't matter to me?" he said passionately. Molly could hear the emotion in his voice as he spoke. "Do you think that I don't consider you and William in whatever I do or whenever I make a decision?"

Molly shook her head and said quickly, "Of course I don't think that. But I'm not talking about that." Her voice began to rise. "I'm talking about trying to find out what's wrong in this house."

Charles responded immediately, "By talking to someone you don't know anything about?" His eyes were ablaze with anger and focussed firmly upon her. She sensed there was something else behind his outburst, something beyond her going behind his back.

"What do _you_ know about him?" she said.

She saw him hesitate and it was enough to convince her there was something he hadn't told her. "You called him Gerald," she said. "Have you met him, before?"

Charles walked away from the door towards her. He ran his fingers through his hair. She knew it was a nervous habit, something he did when he was uncertain and trying to weigh up the right thing to say. He seemed a little less angry and she didn't want to add any more fuel to the argument so she remained silent waiting for his response. When he did speak he seemed calmer and there was a note of resignation in his voice.

"I met him two days ago. Richard Murray introduced him and he said we might be able to do some business together." He glanced at Molly but could read nothing in her face. "He seemed perfectly charming but I didn't like what he was suggesting."

"What sort of business _was_ he suggesting, then?" Molly interjected.

Charles sighed, "He was very vague about it but he offered me a lot of money." He saw the surprised look on Molly's face.

"Well, what was wrong about that?" she questioned, confused by his answer.

He looked at her earnestly, "If someone offers you a lot of money, won't tell you what type of business they're doing, suggests they want to avoid prying eyes and asks you to keep quiet about it and effectively look the other way, what conclusion would you draw?"

"He's a crook," she said simply.

Charles nodded. "There was something about him that didn't make sense. He seemed respectable and above board but I didn't trust him. I told Richard Murray yesterday it was too good to be true and I didn't want to be involved in whatever it was." What he didn't tell Molly was that he was still concerned that Harker might not take no for an answer and it wouldn't be the end of the matter. When Richard Murray had accepted his decision yesterday without argument, he'd been pleasantly surprised. All he wanted at that point was to sever connections and forget about it. When Richard Murray had called him this afternoon to tell him in no uncertain terms how badly Gerald Harker had taken the unsolicited call from Molly, Charles had been dumbstruck. He realised in an instant why she had called him but had no idea how she had come by his details. It was clear from Richard's reaction that he believed Charles had something to do with it. Charles looked at Molly.

"How did you get the telephone number?"

Molly looked sheepish and said quietly, "I tricked the Receptionist at the Solicitors. I overheard a conversation when I went to fetch my gloves. I went back later and said you were meeting him with Richard Murray today and needed his number."

In any other circumstance Charles might have been secretly impressed by her spirit and ingenuity but he felt that she had never used it so unwisely and inappropriately.

"Do you understand now why I didn't want you to contact him? Why I didn't want anything else to do with him?" he said, "I just hope that you haven't made anything worse."

He turned his back on her with an air of annoyance and exasperation and looked out of the lounge window. Molly watched him and felt anger well up in her. How dare he behave like this when at the heart of the matter was the fact that he hadn't told her what was going on.

"You should have told me," she cried. "You're blaming me but you didn't trust me enough to tell me about any of this. I'd never have called him if I'd known."

He swung around to look at her. "And you didn't listen to my advice, told lies to get information and went behind my back."

They glared at each other. Neither spoke waiting for the other to offer an opening in the conversation but Molly was still angry and Charles was still stinging from her rebuke. The silence was broken by William bursting into the room and asking Charles to come and see the paper plane he had just been making with Auntie Bella. Charles turned towards him forcing a smile.

"Alright, Scamp. Let's see if it flies." He took William's hand and allowed himself to be led from the room. Molly sat down heavily on the sofa her emotions ranging from anger at his arrogance in assuming that she should always follow his advice in preference to her own and disappointment at the lack of trust in her he had displayed. She tried not to succumb to her emotions but inevitably the tears would not be suppressed any longer.

* * *

The Nethercombe Church Fete had been held on the third Saturday in July for the last thirty years even throughout the long difficult years of the war. It was the one occasion in the village calendar when the local population gathered together in friendly competition and rivalry to display their skills in everything from jam and cake making to needlework and horticulture whilst the stalls, tombola and raffle provided fun and entertainment and aimed to swell the coffers of the Church funds. The day dawned dry, if not particularly fair and Bella in particular found herself looking forward to the event. She had told Molly and Charles about her meeting with Reverend Swinton on Thursday and they had both agreed it would be a good opportunity to meet the villagers of Nethercombe and get involved in a local event although Charles had been keener than Molly. Bella was looking forward to seeing Tom again and was determined to take William along to the hoopla stall to try his luck and hopefully exchange a few words with Tom. She had chosen her nicest summer dress, white cotton with a full skirt and an attractive leaf print design and spent a lot of time washing and drying her hair, wanting to look her best. She imagined that she had probably looked a bit dishevelled after her evening out at Hester Rise and wanted to banish any such memory from Tom's mind.

Molly regarded herself in the dressing table mirror and tried to summon up some enthusiasm for attending the Church Fete. She hadn't minded the prospect when Bella had first suggested it on Thursday evening but now, in the light of continued frosty relations between herself and Charles after the argument last night, it was the last thing she felt like doing. Maintaining a united, sociable front on an occasion like this would no doubt be a strain. Neither of them had backed down or attempted an apology. They had gone about their business for the rest of the evening and this morning displaying a cold civility to each other that was alien to them. Charles had come to bed late last night after he thought Molly would be asleep and after getting into bed had deliberately turned onto his side facing away from her. She had lain there in the dark listening to his breathing gradually change as he fell asleep but had only dozed fitfully during the night, sometimes waking and recounting snatches of the argument. She had woken early before him and got up to deal with William who was always an early riser. There had been no general conversation at breakfast, just a cold observance of 'please' and 'thank you' where appropriate. Even Bella who seemed quite wrapped up in her own thoughts about going to the Fete, had remarked at one point during the meal,

"You don't look like you're looking forward to it much, Molly."

Molly had just shaken her head and muttered something about being tired and not having slept well which had been enough to satisfy Bella.

Molly brushed her hair, tied it up and fastened it with hair pins then applied a little powder and lipstick. It improved her appearance and she was grateful because it was difficult to hide the tiredness of a poor night's sleep mixed with the concerns that were dominating her thoughts. She tried to tell herself that things would settle down between them eventually and this argument would be forgotten but even so, she just couldn't bring herself to back down and make the first move. She knew she had made a mistake but so had Charles and she needed to hear him admit that he had.

Bella called up the stairs to Molly to say it was time to leave and taking a deep breath she stood up collected her handbag and gloves and made her way down into the hall where the others were assembled. Bella and William smiled up at her but Charles looked resolutely ahead and made no comment other than to say they had better hurry. They had decided to walk into Nethercombe as it was not very far, a dry day and a relatively easy walk. Charles and Molly said very little on the way but it was not necessary as Bella kept up a string of observations and comments which seldom required any input from either of them and William was very excited by Auntie Bella's promise of some fun.

The sound of a small brass band playing a selection of cheerful old favourites could be heard long before the party from Greystones turned the corner to The Green. It had been transformed for the day: a small marquee strung with cheerful red, white and blue bunting had been turned into the refreshments tent selling cups of tea, cakes and lemonade, another tent housing entries for the handicraft and horticultural contests stood alongside it and various stalls were set out in rows, some selling wares others such as the tombola stall, horseshoe pitching and coconut shy, less the hard to come by coconuts which had been replaced by skittle pins, were doing a roaring trade. Bella immediately scanned the stalls and spotting what she was looking for at the far end of a row cried,

"Come on Will, how would you like to learn a new game?"

She grasped him by the hand and hurried off in the direction of the hoopla stall. Charles turned to Molly and said in a strange polite voice,

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Molly glanced at him and had to stop herself blurting out '_this is a bloody silly way to behave' _but she restrained herself and replied in an equally polite tone,

"Yes, thank you."

Charles walked away into the tent and after a moment she followed and finding some tables and benches laid out inside sat down. Charles brought her the tea and then announced that he would walk around and take a look at everything while she had a rest. He promptly wandered away and Molly found herself at a table with a group of people she didn't know thinking just how lacking in gallantry Charles could be when he was in a bad mood. It was a side to him she had never seen before and she found herself increasingly annoyed at him for his lack of care when she felt vulnerable as she sometimes did in new social situations. She drank her tea quickly and decided she wasn't going to sit here like an abandoned parcel. She strode off purposefully by herself to take a look at what the Fete had to offer.

Tom Stimpson had been looking out for Bella since the Fete opened at two o'clock. He had served his customers with politeness and the necessary degree of enthusiasm but he had half an eye constantly turned on the crowd around him anxious not to miss her arrival. His father had pulled his leg about Bella calling to see him at the shop but he hadn't minded. His father had never been one to hold back on his opinions and it was clear that he had taken a liking to Bella and told Tom,

"She's a bonny lass, that's for sure. I can see why you like her." He then continued to make jokes for another ten minutes pretending he couldn't understand what such a nice girl could see in Tom, until his mother, Marjorie, had intervened and told Stimpson in no uncertain terms to,

"Leave the lad alone or he'll end up too shy to speak to the poor girl and it'll be your fault he's got a broken heart!"

Tom had blushed and rapidly excused himself. He knew his father well enough, however, to realise there was no malice in what he said. He was one of life's natural jokers and it had certainly won his mother over as she often said,

"I wouldn't have looked at him twice if he hadn't made me laugh".

Tom knew she was only telling half the truth for his father had been and still was a handsome man and he was sure that might also have played a small part in her choice.

He saw Bella at once. In his eyes she was without doubt the prettiest girl at the Fete and he thought that she looked a picture today in that dress with her hair looking so nice and best of all she was smiling broadly at him clearly happy to see him again. He was distracted by the sight of her and grinned in return until a voice interrupted his thoughts saying,

"Oi, how about giving me those hoops I just paid for, lad." He glanced round to see Mr Cartwright from Broadacre Farm standing with his hand outstretched. He hurriedly handed over the hoops hearing him muttering something about "Daft lads making cow's eyes at girls'" He saw Bella weaving her way to the front with Will in tow.

"Hello Bella," he called, "enjoying the Fete?"

"Yes, I am," she said with more confidence than she really felt, "and this young man would like to learn how to play hoopla."

She glanced down at William's eager face and handed over her money to Tom. He passed over three hoops and said kindly,

"All you've got to do is try to throw your hoop over one of those prizes." William craned his neck to see what was on offer and Tom leaned over and lifted him up so that he could get a better look. He had soon settled on his target of a small toy car and Bella allowed him to make a first attempt on his own which landed well short. The second attempt was a joint effort between Bella and William and resulted in a near miss. The third attempt was Bella's alone and biting her lip in concentration she put every ounce of effort into throwing the ring as accurately as she could. When it landed over the toy, William jumped for joy and as Tom handed the prize to him he said quietly to Bella,

"Would you like to go for a walk this evening? I promise I won't go near Hester Rise."

Bella nodded and blushing slightly said, "Call for me at seven o'clock."

Tom smiled and replied, "I'll be there," before turning back to hand out hoopla rings to more people eager to try their luck.

Bella took William by the hand and wandered away from the hoopla stall. They stopped to have a go at the tombola and coconut shy and watched the horseshoe pitching for a while before wandering into the competition tent. As they entered Bella caught sight of Charles standing by himself looking at the submissions. They caught up with him and as they approached, William cried,

"Look, Daddy, I've won a car." Charles turned and smiled at William genuinely please to see his son. He bent down and admired the car. It was a small metal model of a sports car, painted green and he thought longingly for a moment of Rosa and realised how much he missed that car and the happy times associated with her. Bella looked around and seeing an array of attractive floral displays commented,

"Pity Dad's not here he'd have liked a chance to enter some roses in the flower show."

They wandered over to the flowers to take a closer look and Bella was particularly captivated by a large, light yellow tea rose with pink petal edges and a lovely scent.

"That's beautiful," she said leaning over to take in the scent again. "Wish I knew what that was, I'd get Dad to try growing some."

"Albert Hoffman," a male voice with a strong local accent replied.

She and Charles turned around to see an elderly man dressed in a tweed jacket and wearing a flat cap.

"Pardon?" Bella said.

The elderly man nodded in the direction of the flowers. "That variety of rose, Miss, it's called Albert Hoffman. I should know, because I grew it. You like Roses, do you, Miss?"

Bella nodded and glancing at Charles said, "You've got plenty at Greystones haven't you? Mind you they're not in a very good state, not like these."

The elderly man looked at them both in surprise. "Did you say Greystones?"

Charles spoke up, "Yes, we moved in last Monday. I'm Charles James the new owner." He held out his hand to the elderly man.

"I'm pleased to meet you Mr James," the man said grasping his hand and shaking it. "Ted Chadwick's the name. I'm very sorry to hear what you said about the state of the gardens because I was the gardener there for nearly forty years."

It had been a long afternoon for Molly. Shortly after leaving the refreshments tent she had run into Mr Stimpson and his wife who had very kindly taken her around the Fete introducing her to dozens of Nethercombe residents. Everyone had been friendly and welcoming but her head was already spinning with all the names and information that had come her way and her feet and ankles were starting to hurt. By the time she encountered Charles, Bella and William again it was almost time for the Fete to close. The raffle was drawn, the prizes were awarded and the band had finally stopped playing. She was a little annoyed with Charles at being abandoned all afternoon but had to weigh that against the pleasant company of Mr and Mrs Stimpson which had been welcome after the frostiness from Charles. However, she knew that she couldn't face the three quarters of a mile walk back to Greystones and Charles, looking at her, realised that it was unreasonable and unkind to ask her to walk home again. He could see that she was tired and so he offered to walk back with Bella and William and then return with the car to fetch her. Despite her feelings towards him that afternoon she knew better than to cut off her nose to spite her face and accepted the offer with gratitude. Five minutes later Reverend Swinton found her sitting on a bench by the Church gate. There was a light drizzle in the air and he invited her to wait in the Vicarage next door.

Molly sat self-consciously on the sofa in the parlour as Mrs Swinton served her a cup of tea.

"Please excuse me, Mrs James, but I've a mountain of paraphernalia to put away from this afternoon," she smiled at Molly.

"Yes, of course. Please don't let me stop you," Molly replied.

After Mrs Swinton had left Molly glanced at Reverend Swinton nervously wondering what to say. Looking around the room she caught sight of the photograph of a young man in RAF uniform on the mantelpiece. She noted the wings on his uniform jacket and said,

"Is that your son in the RAF uniform?"

Reverend Swinton turned his gaze towards the photograph, "Yes, Desmond."

"He's a pilot, I see." Molly observed. "Was that during the war or is he still serving?"

The Reverend shook his head and Molly realised from his gesture what would follow.

"He was a fighter pilot. He was shot down in August 1940 and very badly injured. He died two days later."

"I'm so sorry," she said with genuine sympathy.

"Thank you but we are far from alone in our loss and sometimes you can derive comfort from knowing that others share your pain."

For some reason the mention of the war and the loss of family and friends brought tears to Molly's eyes or perhaps it was the long afternoon and the strained atmosphere with Charles.

"Oh, my dear. Please don't be upset," the Reverend said kindly searching for a handkerchief although Molly had already located her own and was dabbing her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said sniffing a little, "I'm just not having the best of days. In fact, things seem to have been going wrong ever since we moved here and it's not even been a week."

"Is there something I can help you with?" Reverend Swinton said with genuine concern.

Molly wondered what to say. She had only met him this afternoon and she remembered Charles saying how easy it would be to make themselves look ridiculous but she knew there was a question she had to ask and she decided that if anyone would accept it at face value without making a lasting judgment it would be him.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Reverend?"

Reverend Swinton was clearly taken aback. "Do you think there are spirits in your house, Mrs James?"

Molly shook her head.

"I don't know, not really. My husband doesn't believe it and we've had what you could call a '_disagreement' _about it. I think it would just help if I knew a bit more about the house or the Harkers who lived there before us. It might perhaps set my mind at rest."

She didn't intend to inform him about the Gerald Harker incident that was at the heart of the disagreement with Charles but another thought had occurred to her.

"How long have _you_ been here in Nethercombe, Reverend?"

He replied without hesitation, "Almost seventeen years. We moved to this parish in the winter of 1933."

"You must have known Mrs Harker then," Molly said.

"A little," he conceded, "but I'm not sure if I can help you much. She was quite a reclusive character. We moved here the year after her husband had died and she was already a little detached from the rest of the community then. She had a degenerative eye condition that had been worsening for many years and I think she relied on her husband a lot because of her poor sight. His death must have been quite a blow to her. She preferred to keep herself to herself. However," he said suddenly recalling something, "that wasn't always the case. I was having a good sort out of parish papers and records including minutes of various committee meetings going back decades, some as far as the Great War or even earlier. I recall Mrs Harker's name appearing on some of them so she must have been more involved in Nethercombe life once. In fact," he scratched his head, "I've got some of those papers from the Great War to hand in my study. You're welcome to take a look if you wish."

Molly couldn't think how it would help but with nothing else to do until Charles returned to collect her she thought she had better show an interest and agreed to take a look.

She followed him along the corridor to his study. On a table in the corner of the room there were several piles of yellowing sheets of typewritten paper. The Reverend leafed through them, oblivious to the clouds of dust that were being spread around the room.

"I was putting them in date order and I remember seeing minutes from meetings of the Nethercombe Ladies War Relief Committee." He pulled out some papers dating from 1916 and showed them to Molly. She scanned through them reading details of the committee's activities which seemed to mainly consist of assembling food parcels for soldiers, knitting socks, scarves and balaclavas and organising various events to raise funds. Mrs Harker's name was often listed as attending and occasionally minuted as agreeing to undertake a particular task or activity. However, when Molly turned the page over to minutes from a meeting in April 1917 her attention was drawn to the third paragraph. The committee had given a vote of thanks to Mrs Harker for her hospitality in hosting the previous meeting at Greystones and for the kind assistance of her daughter, Miss Alice Delaney.

_Alice Delaney._ The name shouted out of the page at Molly. She hastily flicked through the subsequent meeting minutes but there was no further mention of her anywhere. She turned to Reverend Swinton and said,

"Did you know that Mrs Harker had a daughter called Alice Delaney, Reverend?"

He looked up in surprise.

"I don't recall it ever being mentioned in conversation with her or by anyone else. I suppose it's entirely possible that she did. You say her surname was Delaney? I assume she must have been her daughter from an earlier marriage. I don't know anything of Mrs Harker's situation as they weren't local to this area. I believe Mrs Harker said she had once lived in Kent. There would have been no mention of her in the local Parish register after their arrival here unless there was an appropriate occasion to record it such as a marriage, birth or death."

Molly recalled Charles telling her that a Mr Harker had bought Greystones in 1909 and realised there wouldn't be any mention of anything before that date.

"So, you don't know anything about her or if she's living anywhere around here?" Molly asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not. All I can say is that I wasn't aware of anyone visiting Mrs Harker or anyone talking about her daughter. Certainly not in my time here, at least. I could, of course, check the parish register to see if there are any records that mention her. Do you know the date the family moved here?"

Molly told him and he promised to take a look for her.

As soon as Charles appeared outside the vicarage in the Austin, Molly prepared to leave. As she followed Reverend Swinton to the front door he turned to her and said,

"I know this seems very important to you right now and you are looking for answers but we can't always know everything and sometimes knowledge isn't the answer to our problems. Sometimes we just have to trust in ourselves and what we believe to be the truth."

Molly was puzzled, "Are you talking about believing in God?"

The Reverend shrugged, "Some would say that is the nature of religious faith but it can be applied equally to many things in life. I only meant that you should be prepared for the fact that you may not find the answers you are looking for." Molly thanked him for his hospitality but at this moment she was certain that nothing but knowledge of the facts would help her to settle the problems that seemed to have descended upon her life since moving into Greystones.

As Charles drove away from the Vicarage, Molly turned to him and said eagerly,

"I've found out something about Mrs Harker."

Charles glanced at her but didn't comment.

"She had a daughter called Alice Delaney."

Charles still showed no reaction so she continued, "Don't you remember the initials on Bella's locket A.D?"

Charles nodded and said matter-of-factly, "So the locket in all probability belonged to Mrs Harker's daughter which was why it was found in a cupboard in one of the bedrooms." He didn't sound particularly impressed by the news and Molly sighed. She had hoped he would show more interest but then another more pertinent thought occurred to her and she said,

"Charles, when Will said that he saw the 'sad lady' sitting on his bed he said she was wearing Bella's locket. But don't you see, this must mean she was wearing her _own_ locket. He must have seen Alice Delaney."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The Austin pulled up outside the front door of Greystones and Charles turned off the engine but neither he nor Molly moved from their seats. The news that Molly had discovered old Mrs Harker had a daughter had made little difference to his opinion. He had felt increasingly exasperated by their conversation on the return journey from Nethercombe.

"I've already told you what I think about the idea that Will was talking to a ghost. I think you should stop filling your head with this nonsense. I just don't believe it."

Molly remembered Reverend Swinton's final words as she had left the Vicarage and asked, "Are you saying that because you haven't seen it with your own eyes?"

He turned to look at her wondering how he could convince her to stop pursuing this idea. "Why else would I believe it?"

Molly searched for a reason.

"It's too much of a coincidence, surely," she cried determined not to be put off by his dismissive attitude. "We found the locket with the initials A.D. and whether you believe it or not, Will says he saw the lady wearing it. We now know that Mrs Harker's daughter was called Alice Delaney. I just feel that we have to find out more about her because if she did appear to Will, she must be dead."

There was silence for half a minute. Charles contemplated her words. He could tell that she wasn't going to change her mind easily. He knew that he could carry on arguing his point until he was blue in the face but the likelihood of convincing Molly to give up this subject would be slim. His alternative was to stop fighting it, stop being obstructive and allow her to come to her own conclusions which might eventually agree with his. He realised that he was tired of being annoyed with her. He never could maintain that stance for long because no matter what she did there was always some redeeming quality in her actions for which he couldn't blame her. He spoke quietly.

"Perhaps you'll have a chance to find out about Alice Delaney. I met a chap this afternoon called Ted Chadwick who was the gardener here for years. I thought we could do with some advice, so I've asked him to come up and take a look tomorrow. You can ask him then."

Molly was taken aback at this news but experienced a sudden surge of hope. She wanted to hug him but checked herself.

"Thank you."

"That's not why I asked him, you know," Charles murmured almost under his breath.

Molly reached for his hand and he didn't resist. She spoke softly, "Maybe not, but you know I won't be able to rest until I find out, so thank you anyway." She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it. "I know we don't agree but please let's not argue about this anymore."

He nodded and she felt him squeeze her hand. It was the tiniest of gestures but her heart lifted at the realisation that he was trying to make his peace with her.

* * *

Bella fell in step with Tom as they strolled side by side down the lane together, their arms occasionally brushing lightly against each other as they walked only a few inches apart.

"Where are we going?" Bella asked glancing up and catching him watching her out of the corner of his eye. He thought she looked just as lovely now as she had this afternoon. The weather was slightly chillier than it had been of late and she had put a pale green cardigan on over her dress. The colour suited her and brought out the colour of her eyes.

"I'm going to show you another of the sights of Nethercombe," Tom replied grandly.

"Surely, I've seen them all by now?" Bella laughed. "There can't be any more."

Tom shook his head, "Not this one."

Bella wondered how much more there could be to see in such a small place as Nethercombe. She had visited the Green, seen the church, the tearooms, the general store, visited the duck pond with William, played Pooh Sticks on the bridge over the stream and seen the view from Hester Rise. She preferred not to think about that last occasion. She hadn't said anything to Molly about that evening but every time she thought of being there she experienced an irrational resurgence of her fears and her legs became shaky again as if she were standing on that path trying to summon up the courage to run and jump across to Tom. She looked up at him again.

"Am I dressed alright or should I have worn something for hiking or climbing or maybe a pair of galoshes?" she asked. He realised she was joking and smirked. He wanted to tell her she couldn't possibly have worn anything nicer in his eyes, but he settled for,

"You'll be fine as you are."

They walked a little further down the lane until they reached a small, narrow gateway on the left hand side. Bella had noticed it on her previous walks into Nethercombe and wondered where it led. Tom turned into the gateway and Bella followed joining him on a narrow, winding gravel track lined by trees which sloped down the hill. The track was uneven and had become overgrown with weeds.

"Where does this go?" Bella asked

"Wait and see!" Tom said. "Think of it as a mystery tour."

"Yeah," Bella retorted, "it's a mystery why I keep following you about the countryside. Anything could happen." At that moment she turned her ankle on a stone and yelped, "Ouch!"

Tom turned to her, "Here, take my hand, if it'll stop you doing yourself an injury."

He held out his hand to her and she took it without hesitation and allowed him to lead her all the way down to the end of the track She could hear the sound of running water and realised they were heading towards the bottom of the valley and the river. As they turned the final bend in the track Bella saw a white-painted, half-timbered building next to the riverside. Drawing nearer she could make out the sign written in flaking black paint on the side of the building declaring it to be _'Nethercombe Rowing Club'._ It was obvious from the poor state of repair, the cracked window panes and holes on the veranda which overlooked the river that it was many years since the building had been in use. Bella let go of Tom's hand and approached the building, peering in through the dusty windows and walking around inspecting the place. She looked back at him with concern etched across her face, her head on one side and hands on her hips.

"Please don't tell me we're going off in a boat somewhere? I get seasick." She remembered a day trip to Margate before the war when her Mum and Dad had taken all of the children on a short pleasure trip in a fishing boat as a special treat and she had been ill, although she reasoned that too much ice cream beforehand could have been to blame. She'd never liked boats much since then.

Tom shook his head laughing at the idea. "There aren't any boats here now. This place hasn't been used for at least ten years. Dad says it was someone's bright idea and that it didn't really go down very well. Then the war came along and it was given up."

Bella stared at him in bemusement. "And you think this is one of the sights of Nethercombe?"

"I like to come down here sometimes, 'specially on a nice evening," Tom said simply. It's peaceful."

Bella looked around her at the tranquil scene, heard the breeze rustling through the trees and the gentle comforting sound of the water lapping against the riverbank.

"It is nice here," she acknowledged.

"Come on," he said taking her hand again and leading her down a short path just below the veranda of the boathouse. Someone had placed a wooden bench close to the water many years ago and they sat down side by side taking in the scene and saying nothing. Bella glanced at Tom and saw him biting his lip. He looked nervous and she caught him taking a deep breath as if willing himself to do something.

"What is it?" Bella asked.

"I wanted to apologise for what happened at Hester Rise," he said diffidently. "I felt bad about how scared you were and I just wanted to say sorry so I got you this." He reached into his trouser pocket and took out a small cloth pouch. He handed it to Bella. It weighed almost nothing and she was intrigued about what could be inside. She opened the pouch and tipped the contents into the palm of her hand. Wrapped in tissue paper was a silver link chain. She held it up in astonishment.

"It's for that locket of yours," he said hastily looking at the locket hanging around her neck on a cheap gold-coloured metal chain. "I got it in a proper jewellers shop in Cheltenham. That's where I went on Thursday on my day off. I caught the train up from Cookham Halt." He was speaking rapidly because he was nervous wondering what she would make of the unexpected gift.

Bella was overcome and touched by his kindness and stared in wonder. She thought it was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever given her and it was so thoughtful of him. She was almost speechless.

"Do you like it?" he asked her.

"I love it, Tom," she grinned at him with genuine pleasure adding hastily, "you didn't have to buy me anything. You had nothing to apologise for."

"Well, I wanted to anyway," he said blushing a little but clearly happy that she was pleased with the gift.

"You're such a nice person, Tom," Bella said and impulsively without thinking she reached up to him and quickly kissed him on the lips. She could tell from the look on his face that he was overcome with surprise, stunned and frozen to the spot, clearly wondering what to do next and desperate not to cause any offence. She decided she would need to help him along a little and shifted herself closer to him on the bench, leaning in towards him until they were almost touching. She gazed up at him, smiling and raised her eyebrows in a question. He needed no further encouragement and tentatively reaching out to touch her face he leaned in and kissed her. His lips were soft, warm and gentle upon hers and in that brief moment they were oblivious to anything else in a way neither had ever experienced before. Breaking away from the kiss after a little while he moved closer to her and placed his arm around her shoulders. They sat like this for another ten minutes saying nothing at all and simply enjoying the pleasure of being with each other.

It was Tom who eventually broke the spell by suggesting that Bella put the locket on the new chain. He released her from his hold and reached to undo the clasp fumbling slightly as his hands came into contact with the skin on the nape of her neck. She slid the locket from the chain and asked him to hold it whilst she took out the new chain. He turned it over in his hands and traced the engraved design with his index finger before running his finger around the edge.

"What's inside the locket?" he asked.

Bella was unravelling the chain and didn't look up as she said, "I can't open it."

He picked it up and looked more closely at the edge. It had an unusual clasp and he realised his fingers were too large and clumsy to manage it.

"Bella, run your fingernail around that edge and see if you can find a release point."

She took the locket from him and kept running her finger around the edge of the join but to no avail until by chance, using the fingernails of both index fingers she managed to apply pressure at the top and the bottom of the locket at the same time and it sprang open finally revealing its contents.

* * *

Bella wandered downstairs feeling light-hearted and very happy. She'd been lying on her bed for the last hour thinking about Tom and recalling his surprise when she had reached up and impulsively kissed him. He might have been a bit shy to start with down by the river, she thought, but that had changed very quickly on the way home. He'd held her hand all the way back to Greystones and spent another five minutes with her at the bottom of the drive out of sight of the house, kissing her goodnight and his confidence had clearly increased since that first tentative moment earlier. On the walk home they had decided to catch the bus in to Cirencester next Thursday on his day off and go to a matinee at The Regal followed by a quick bite to eat in a café and she was looking forward to the date immensely.

The lounge door was partially open. Bella heard dance music playing on the wireless and started humming along to the tune. As she pushed open the door she saw Molly curled up on the sofa next to Charles. He had his left arm around her and was holding a book that he was reading in his right hand. Molly raised her eyebrows enquiringly at Bella as she came into the room.

"Did you have a nice evening?"

Bella nodded and sat down on the edge of the sofa perched next to Molly.

"Look what Tom gave me." She picked up the locket hanging around her neck.

The sight of it brought to mind the conversations with Charles earlier in the evening and Molly said tentatively, "What am I looking at?"

"This," Bella said indicating the silver chain, "he got me a chain to match the locket."

Charles looked up from the book he was reading, "He gave you jewellery?"

"Not jewellery, really, just this chain."

"Why?" Molly asked.

Bella felt a bit put out by all the questions and their inference and said defensively, "Because he likes me. Is there anything wrong with that?"

"No," Charles said trying to placate her and prevent the start of a disagreement between the sisters, "it's a lovely present."

"Anyway," Bella said hoping to bring any more such questions to a close, "look what we found."

She slid her thumbnails along the join between the two halves of the locket and pressing at the top and bottom at the same time managed to release the catch. As it opened, Molly sat up and leaned forward. Inside the locket lay two tiny locks of hair. One was blond the other auburn.

"That's what was in here all along. I wonder who they belonged to."

Molly was thinking exactly the same question and looked at Charles. His face was neutral although he said carefully, "What are you going to do with them?"

"I don't know," Bella said. "I don't really want somebody else's hair in my locket."

"Well, keep them safe for now. Don't go losing them," Molly said warily.

"Hark at you two," Bella said pulling a face. "Alright, I promise to keep them safe, somewhere."

She stood up and said, "I'm getting some hot milk and going to bed. Goodnight!"

She wandered down to the kitchen and they heard the sound of saucepan on the stove and teacups rattling in the cupboard.

"Do you think it means anything?" Molly asked Charles.

He shrugged. "Well, it's the sort of keepsake people usually put in lockets. I suppose it was of importance to the owner."

"To Alice, you mean," Molly said.

He smiled half-heartedly, "Yes, to Alice, I suppose."

* * *

On Sunday morning Bella was woken by a shaft of sunlight streaming through her window and catching her on the side of her face. She blinked and rolled away from the light. She hadn't pulled the curtains properly last night and there was a gap in the middle where they didn't meet. The sunshine was casting a diagonal line across the bed her pillow and the bedside table. She glanced across to her alarm clock and saw that it was eight o'clock. She sat up in bed stretching the sleepiness out of her limbs. As she did so she caught sight of the silver locket now attached to the new chain that Tom had given her yesterday, lying on the table top. She stopped and stared at it. Last night before turning out the light she had left the locket open on the bedside table She had placed the two tiny locks of hair in a small wooden trinket box in which she kept some brooches and a favourite necklace. The locket was closed. Bella pulled a face and blinked. She reached to pick it up and using her new knowledge of how to open it released the catches at the top and bottom. It sprang open and inside lay the two locks of hair. She stared at them and shook her head trying to recall if she had replaced them herself but she was certain that she hadn't done it.

Molly and William were in the kitchen eating breakfast. Charles had risen early and headed to the airfield as he had an early morning pupil and he needed to run through some pre-flight checks with Donald on both the Tiger Moth trainers beforehand. William had just finished his breakfast as Bella came into the room and he was asking if he could get down from the table. Molly looked at his clean plate and said, "Alright, Will, you can run along and play outside for a bit, if you want."

He jumped down but as he was about to go, Bella called, "Will. Have you been in my room and touched the locket on my bedside table?"

He turned around, his big brown eyes staring at her in surprise. He shook his head.

"Are you sure?" Bella asked him again.

"I didn't, Auntie Bella. P'raps the sad lady did it."

Molly momentarily shut her eyes and took a breath. Bella frowned and Molly could already see the next question being formed in her mind before she jumped in and said, "Maybe, Will. Now off you go."

Bella turned to her in total bemusement, "What are you two talking about? What 'sad lady'?"

It was inevitable, Molly supposed, that at some point she would have to discuss events with Bella and it seemed that the time had arrived.

"Sit down, Bella. I'll get you a cuppa."

Molly told Bella everything that had happened in the last few days: seeing and hearing the cupboard door moving by itself, Sally Philpotts' attempts to hide the fact there had been unexplained noises in the house, William talking to a 'sad lady' and discovering that old Mrs Harker had a daughter bearing the same initials as those on the locket. She was used to her sister's no-nonsense approach to life and expected her to swiftly pour scorn on everything she had told her but she surprised Molly by saying,

"Someone shut that locket during the night with the locks of hair back inside it. It weren't me or you and I don't think Charles would play a trick like that. So perhaps, Will was right, mad as it sounds. But it's a bit creepy 'aint it, Mols?"

Molly had shrugged, "It's strange, but I don't feel scared or anything. I want to know what's going on but it doesn't frighten me. Have you ever felt scared here for no reason, Bella?"

Bella drank her tea and thought about it before answering, "Not here in the house, no, but I did get a scare in the woods the other day. In fact, every time I think about it, I feel the same, my legs start shaking and I don't know why. I even dreamt about it. Twice in fact."

"You never said anything," Molly observed.

"Well, I didn't like to go on about it," Bella said, "and when I got back on Wednesday you'd gone to bed. I think Charles was just bothered about whether Tom had behaved himself," she said, adding hastily, "which he had, by the way!"

The mention of a dream startled Molly. "Tell me about your dream, Bella. What happened?"

Bella recounted the dream, describing how she felt as if she was running through woods pursued by someone before falling. Molly listened without interruption but felt the hairs starting to rise on the back of her neck. When Bella had finished she said simply,

"I dreamt it too."

The sisters stared at each other trying to understand the meaning of this shared experience until Bella said, "It can't be coincidence."

* * *

When the doorbell rang at half past two that afternoon, Molly, Charles and Bella were sitting in the lounge. William was doing a jigsaw puzzle with Bella's help but he looked up when the doorbell rang and asked who it was.

"A gentleman who's going to tell us about the garden," Charles replied, standing up and making his way into the hall. William scampered after him. Molly exchanged glances with Bella. They both knew there was more than just information about the garden to be obtained from Ted Chadwick.

After greeting Ted, Charles showed him out into the garden and Molly and Bella followed on behind. He looked around him in surprise and obviously some dismay at the current state of the garden.

"Goodness," he exclaimed, "things have become overgrown and got in a mess. I haven't been here for nearly five years. It was all different back in the day, I can tell you. I used to come up here three times a week to keep this place under control, tidying the flower beds weeding, pruning the roses, cutting the lawn, doing the planting. It kept me busy all year here."

"When did you start working here?" Molly asked.

Ted paused and calculating aloud said, "Well, I'm seventy five now, so I reckon it was the spring of 1910, I think. Mr and Mrs Harker moved in here in the October the year before, just after they were married."

"And you worked here until just after the war?" Molly asked.

"That's right," he nodded, "thirty six years altogether."

"You must have known Mr and Mrs Harker quite well," Charles began looking meaningfully at Molly. Ted picked up the thread of the conversation immediately,

"I wouldn't say well, but I usually saw them and exchanged the odd word in passing, when I was here."

"Did they have any children?" Molly asked.

Ted shook his head, "No, _they_ didn't but Mrs Harker had a daughter from her first marriage. She wasn't here much though. They sent her away to school as soon as they moved in."

"That's a shame," Molly said.

Ted sighed, "That's the sort of thing they did in those days. I felt sorry for her when she was home in the holidays, though. She didn't know anyone round here. My son, Dan, used to come up and help me with the gardens when he weren't at school and Miss Alice used to hang around talking to him. Not that Mr Harker liked it much. He liked everyone to stay in their place, if you know what I mean."

Molly nodded but the moment he had mentioned the name 'Alice' she had felt a surge of hope that she would find something out at last.

"What was she like?"

He smiled at a long forgotten memory. "I can see her and my Dan, playing chase in the garden here, running about and laughing. She had beautiful auburn hair and liked to leave it hanging down loose over her shoulders, flying around in a tangle most of the time."

"Did Alice stay around here after she left school?" Molly said casually

Ted looked up, his face was serious. "No, she didn't. She came home in what must have been early 1917. She and my Dan were about the same age but she ran away in the summer to join the VAD's and she never came back here."

"Really?" Molly said. "Not at all?"

"No," Ted said with a sad look on his face, "I don't think she had any reason to come back."

Ted spent half an hour looking at the garden, walking around, telling them the names of various plants and when they would flower. He gave Charles some basic advice to get started on clearing out some of the undergrowth and weeds but advised him that if they wanted to make something of the garden and didn't have time, they would be better off employing a gardener to help them, He poked his head into the potting shed at the bottom of the garden and inspected the state of the tools which considering how little use they had had during the past four years looked reasonable. He looked along the length of the workbench and spotted a small blue glazed earthenware flower pot at the back.

"Oh my word, "he said with a sad smile, "it's still here. I thought that would have been thrown out long before now."

He picked up the pot and showed it to them. It was about six inches high and four inches in diameter.

"Dan and Miss Alice used to leave each other secret messages under this pot when they were children. One of them would hide it somewhere in the garden and the other would have to search for it to find the message. It was a game they made up. I'd forgotten about it until I saw this thing here, still."

He turned the pot over in his hands and smiled to himself at the memory before putting it back on the shelf. They made their way back into the house and Molly invited him to come in for a cup of tea and some cake. They chatted amiably about life in the village and Charles told him about the airfield and his work there. Time passed rapidly before Ted announced that he should be getting back. Charles offered to drive him home and Ted admitted that he would be grateful for a lift. As he turned to say goodbye to Bella and William he remarked on the locket hanging around her neck.

"That's a very nice locket, Miss. Is it new?"

Bella was surprised and said honestly, "No. Actually, we found it here in the house last week."

Ted continued to stare at it for a few more seconds before saying, "Like I said, Miss, it's very pretty!"

Molly walked with Charles and Ted to the front door to bid him goodbye and asked him casually if he would consider doing any more gardening as they were in definite need of assistance.

He shook his head sadly. "No, I'm retired now, Mrs James. I don't think I could manage it at my age." He surveyed the garden again. "It's times like this I wish my Dan was here. He'd have loved a job like this."

"He doesn't live around here, then?" Molly asked.

Ted shook his head. "He was killed near Arras in the summer of 1918."

"I'm so sorry," Molly said quietly. "I didn't think."

Ted looked up at her. "No reason you should. It was a long time ago and we've had another war since then. There's plenty more people in my situation."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"Well," Bella said as Molly came back into the lounge after bidding Ted Chadwick goodbye, "do you think you know any more than you did before?"

Molly sat down on the sofa and looked at her sister, "I'm not sure. I really thought that Ted would know more about Alice. He said she ran away to join the VAD's but never came back here afterwards. I was sure he'd know where she was or what she did later on."

Bella looked down at her locket.

"Do you think the auburn hair in the locket belongs to her?" she asked.

"I suppose it probably does," Molly agreed, "but who does the blond hair belong to?"

Bella shrugged. "You said that if it was Alice who's the 'sad lady' then she must be dead, but Ted Chadwick doesn't know anything about her dying and he was coming here three times a week for nearly forty years."

Molly sighed. She had pinned a lot of hopes on Ted Chadwick having answers and now she felt deflated by her lack of success. She wandered away to the kitchen to clear up the tea dishes and was still standing at the sink washing dishes when Charles returned from taking Ted home. He walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her expanding waist enfolding her in an embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder, his head cuddled in close to hers.

"You won't be able to do that soon," she said dispiritedly.

He heard the downhearted note in her voice and said, "It won't be for much longer."

"No. I won't be waddling around pregnant forever, that's true," Molly said, "but how long will things be troubled in this house if I don't find out what's wrong? 'Cos I'm sure that something is wrong and I just can't work it all out yet."

* * *

Molly couldn't sleep. She had tossed and turned in bed for two hours and twice disturbed Charles who had groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. She got out of bed and wandered downstairs, conscious of the creaking staircase and went into the kitchen to make herself a warm drink hoping it would help her sleep.

She sat at the kitchen table waiting for the milk on the stove to heat through and her thoughts turned to lonely, eighteen year old Alice Delaney running away to become a nurse during the Great War. She thought of herself at nineteen years of age joining the WAAF's to pursue her dreams of being a flight mechanic and one day hoping to be able to fly. There were undeniable similarities between them but Molly hadn't abandoned her family and never returned. Ted Chadwick had said he didn't think that she had any reason to come back but her mother had remained living here until a few months ago. Molly couldn't imagine leaving home and never seeing her family again.

It struck her now that when Mrs Harker had died she had left Greystones to her husband's nephew and not her own daughter. Surely that was a strange thing to do even if they had become estranged from each other. Then there was the silver locket with the blond and auburn hair. It must have been important to Alice so why hadn't she taken it with her and why had they found it at the back of a sealed cupboard? Her thoughts were racing and she realised now that it wasn't the answers she had been given that were the problem for her in understanding this mystery but the questions she hadn't asked.

She heard the hiss of the milk beginning to boil and rushed to turn the gas off under the saucepan. As she watched it settling back down in the pan she knew what she needed to do next.

* * *

The small cottage stood in the centre of a terraced row of cottages on the outskirts of Nethercombe and as she had expected the front garden was beautifully maintained with a wonderful floral display on show. Molly walked up the short path and knocked on the front door. There was a long pause before the door was opened by Ted Chadwick. He clearly hadn't expected to see Molly again so soon and at said in surprise,

"Oh, good morning, Mrs James."

Molly spoke hastily, "I'm sorry to turn up without any warning, Ted," she apologised, "but I really need to talk to you. I've got some questions that I think only you can answer."

Ted gave her a long look as if he was trying to gauge the reason for her visit but he stepped aside and said quietly, "You'd better come in."

She walked into the cottage and Ted politely asked her, "Can I get you a cup of tea, Mrs James?"

"Oh no, thank you. Please don't go to any bother and please call me, Molly," she said turning to smile at him.

She glanced around the small living room. There was nothing warm or cosy about it. No soft furnishings, mementos or ornaments. It was a masculine room and she was sure that Ted must have lived here a long time alone. She looked around searching for something and finally her eyes rested upon it. Hanging on the right hand wall she saw a framed photograph of a young man wearing army uniform from the Great War. Ted saw her looking at the photograph.

"That's my son, Dan. He was eighteen there and a Gunner in the Royal Field Artillery. It was taken on his last leave just before he left for France in July 1917."

Molly gazed at the black and white photograph and the saw his young face full of pride and hope. "You must have missed him very much over the years," she said quietly, thinking of William and finding it difficult to contemplate the pain of losing your child.

Ted nodded, "It broke his mother's heart when he was killed. Then the Spanish 'flu carried her off the following winter. To be honest I don't think she had the strength left to fight it."

Molly fought to hold back the tears. There was something so simple, dignified and accepting in the way that Ted Chadwick recounted these sad details of his life. He had spent more than thirty years alone without the two people dearest to him and yet he had carried on supported by his life within the community of Nethercombe and she felt a sudden immense respect for him.

"Please sit down….Molly," he smiled at the unaccustomed use of her name and gestured to an armchair near the fireplace that she guessed was his chair. She settled herself down.

"Now what is it you'd like to ask me?" he said quietly.

Molly took a deep breath, "I wondered if you could tell me what you know about Alice Delaney and what happened when she ran away."

Ted looked at her warily and said with a hint of caution, "Why do you think I would know anything about that?"

Molly hesitated. "Yesterday you said that after she ran away you didn't think she had any reason to come back. What did you mean?"

Ted shuffled his feet and looked uncomfortable, "I didn't know anything at the time, apart from the fact that Miss Alice had a big argument with Mr Harker the day before she left and she threatened to run off and join the VAD's. I heard the arguing, you see. It was a hot day and the windows were open. They were both shouting. I was working in the garden and couldn't help hearing it. They never got on you see. She was quite a spirited young lady and he wasn't her father. The next day Mr Harker said she had run off like she threatened and had left a letter. She was eighteen and I suppose he just thought it would be less trouble for all of them to let her go. I suppose Mrs Harker must have been upset about it but she never said anything just carried on."

"Do you know if Alice got on with her mother?" Molly asked.

Ted exhaled deeply and seemed to think about this question before saying, "Well enough, I suppose. It was mainly Mr Harker that she seemed to dislike. Her mother was a quiet woman on the whole." He smiled, "Not like her daughter at all. She let Mr Harker deal with everything."

Molly had a vision of a lively, spirited young woman determined to make her mark on the world but held back by the social conventions of the day and a step-father with whom she had a difficult relationship as well as a mother who was probably trying to keep the peace between them all. She remembered Ted's opening words. He had sounded wary and she remarked,

"You said you didn't know anything at the time that Alice left but did you find out something else later?"

Ted nodded slowly. "A few months later I got a letter from Dan. He was in France then. He'd never said a word to us over the years but I suppose I always knew that he and Miss Alice were close." He paused and gave Molly a meaningful look.

"Do you mean they were in love?" Molly asked.

Ted nodded. "Dan was the only lad she knew, I suppose, and she was the only girl he ever seemed to like. Not that others hadn't set their cap at him. He was a good looking lad, my Dan. I suppose that's why Mr Harker wasn't keen on them being friends, with him only being the gardener's son. Dan had been on leave for a couple days before Miss Alice ran off. It was the leave they gave them before them went to France and he came here to spend it with me and his mum. What we didn't know was that he left here four days before his leave was officially over." He paused again allowing the significance of his words to catch Molly before continuing, "It turns out that he and Miss Alice had decided to run off up to Scotland and get married before he went to France. He said it was her idea and she reckoned there was nothing Mr Harker could do about it if they just went off like that. I think maybe she just wanted to get away and be free of that life but Dan seems to have loved her. The night before on Dan's last day with us they had some sort of silly argument and she said she might not go with him. He left her a message in what he called 'the usual way' which meant using that blue pot I showed you yesterday, hidden in the garden. He said that he'd wait at Cookham Halt station for her but if she'd didn't arrive for the four o'clock train he'd know she'd changed her mind. Well, she never showed up. 'Course me and the wife knew nothing about it at the time and later my wife, Maud, wrote to him telling him Miss Alice had gone off to the join the VAD's. When he wrote to us months later about this he said he felt guilty about lying over his leave and wanted to tell us the truth just in case.." His voice trailed off.

Molly's mind was running around in circles taking in the information he had given her. Eventually she said, "So when you said yesterday that Alice had nothing to come back for you meant that she'd fallen out with her family and…" she paused unsure what to say but Ted answered for her,

"Dan had been killed. Why would she come back? The housekeeper said Miss Alice wrote to her mother occasionally but when she did she never said where she was or if she was coming home."

Molly looked again at the photograph of Dan Chadwick. It was a sad story of lost love, misunderstandings and wasted opportunities. Poor Alice and Dan, she thought. Who knows what might have happened if Alice had changed her mind and gone to meet him at the station? Perhaps they would have had a short brief moment of happiness together instead of his suffering a broken heart and Alice disappearing to goodness knows where. Alice and Dan. The thought repeated in her head. _Alice and Dan_. The intertwined initials on the silver locket were A.D. She had assumed they were for Alice Delaney but they could just as easily be the initials of Alice and Dan.

Molly looked up at the photograph of Dan in uniform on the wall. He was staring straight ahead with a serious look on his face, a cap on his head and it was difficult to tell the colour of his hair. She coughed a little and asked quietly,

"Ted, did Dan have fair hair?"

He looked up surprised at the question, "Yes, he did. It was really fair, the colour of corn, just like his mother."

She was sure now that it had been Dan's hair in the locket with Alice's auburn lock and she remembered now how Ted had remarked on the locket Bella was wearing yesterday.

"I think you noticed the locket my sister was wearing yesterday, the one we found in the house."

Ted glanced over at Molly, "Yes."

"Had you seen that locket before?"

He nodded slowly, "I'm pretty sure it was Miss Alice's. Funny thing is, she never took it off."

* * *

Molly found Bella at the bridge over the stream where they had agreed to meet when Charles had dropped them all in the village an hour ago. William was munching what looked like a currant bun and Molly frowned.

"You'll spoil your appetite eating stuff like that before dinner, Will."

She looked at Bella assuming she had bought it for him. "Did you have to give him that?

"He's been waiting quite a long time, Mols, I had to give him something to keep him busy," Bella grumbled.

"Sorry," Molly said, "I didn't mean to sound cross."

"What did you find out?" Bella asked.

"Plenty, as it happens," Molly replied, "but something's still not right in my mind."

They turned away from the bridge and walked slowly towards the church to sit on the bench outside. Molly felt weary and she couldn't decide what was most to blame: a poor night's sleep, tiredness from being pregnant, worries about the happenings in the house or concerns over the problems Charles had encountered. Only a week had passed since they had moved into Greystones and it felt as though everything had changed for the worse. She had moved here with such hopes of creating a wonderful, happy, secure family life and yet she was more unsettled now than she had been during the past five years with all its ups and downs, house moves and changes.

"So, what did he tell you?" Bella asked again.

Molly recounted Ted's words and Bella listened in silence until she had finished.

"So poor Dan was jilted," Bella exclaimed, "and Alice ran off and never came back, just like that."

"That's what it sounds like," Molly agreed.

"I don't believe it," Bella said emphatically. "I don't believe she'd give up someone she loved, just like that 'cos of an argument without another word. I wouldn't do it."

She spoke with such conviction that Molly turned to look at her. A smile crept across her face. Bella seemed to have developed a sudden new found affinity with young women in love and she assumed it had something to do with Tom but she was sensitive enough not to pull her leg on this occasion.

"What about the fact she left the locket behind?" Bella said, "Ted said she always wore it."

"Yes, but if she was angry with Dan she might have tossed it to one side. After all, the chain was broken wasn't it. Perhaps she pulled it off her neck in annoyance and chucked in that cupboard before she left."

They fell into silence again and were still sitting there lost in their own thoughts when they heard footsteps on the path from the church and Reverend Swinton appeared.

"Good morning, Mrs James and Miss Dawes. I hope the day finds you both well?"

Molly smiled, "Well enough thank you, Reverend."

"I was sorry not to see you at morning service yesterday," he remarked and Molly began to feel awkward before he added, "because I wanted to let you know that I had a look through the parish registers as I said I would but I couldn't find any mention of the Harkers apart from the death of Mr Harker in 1932 and obviously Mrs Harker at the start of this year. I'm sorry but there's no mention of her daughter anywhere. She certainly didn't get married here or pass away from what I can tell."

Molly thanked him and he hurried on his way, late for a visit to one of his parishioners.

"It's no good," Molly said, "I must be getting everything wrong. Perhaps Charles is right and I've just let myself get tired out and tense and should forget all this. It's obvious I'm wrong and I must be imagining things."

She felt close to tears and Bella could hear the emotion in her voice as she spoke. She reached out, grasped her sister's hand and asked her one simple question,

"Do you believe that Will saw Alice Delaney's ghost?"

Molly looked at her son, innocently playing on the grass. He had no knowledge of any of this and no reason to make up stories or lie to them, nothing in fact to gain from this. In her heart she knew that the story wasn't over yet.

"Yes, I believe him."

"In that case, "Bella said, "no matter what everyone is saying we have to believe that Alice is dead and she probably didn't leave like any of them said. Everything keeps coming back to the locket. We found the locket in that cupboard and you saw the door moving by itself and heard it creaking and then I took those locks of hair out of it and somehow they ended up back inside again. Will saw the lady wearing the locket. And then there's the dream. Both of us have had the same dream. It's as if she wants to tell us something."

Bella stopped speaking suddenly. She felt cold and had turned pale. Molly noticed, "Are you alright, Bella?"

She nodded, "Ted said that Dan was waiting for Alice at Cookham Halt station, didn't he?"

"That's right," Molly said.

"Well, that's where that path in the woods leads, the one that goes up towards Hester Rise. Tom told me it's the shortest way to get to the station from Nethercombe on foot but it's not that safe. That's where I had that scare in the woods, I mentioned, you see. I didn't tell you Molly, sorry, but I nearly had an accident there. There's a narrow gorge and…"

She paused, the nervous sensation had returned and she glanced at her sister, "I nearly fell into it the other night."

"You what?" Molly cried.

"Sorry, " Bella said again, "but there was no harm done in the end 'cos Tom caught me in time. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, what if Alice _was_ going to the station to meet Dan but met with an accident and never got there. He wouldn't have known. He just would have thought she jilted him."

Molly was still reeling from the idea that her little sister had nearly been killed a few days ago and hadn't deemed to mention it. There was sense in what Bella was suggesting apart from one thing,

"But there's still the letters. Ted said that the housekeeper had told him Alice sent letters from time to time to her mother. If she'd met with an accident how did she manage to send letters and why didn't anyone find her?"

"You haven't seen the place, Molly. If she fell in there no one would find her in a hurry especially if they weren't looking for her," Bella said.

"Meaning what?" Molly said slowly.

"In our dream the person running away is being followed aren't they?" Bella said. "What if someone knew she was dead but never told anyone?"

* * *

The sound of the telephone ringing in the hall startled Molly. She had been dozing in an armchair in the lounge feeling weary after tea. The wireless was playing quietly in the background. Charles was upstairs reading _The House at Pooh Corner_ to William and she could occasionally hear him giggling at the story.

Molly had been waiting for Charles to come back downstairs. She and Bella were going to talk to him about their discussion earlier that day. Molly knew that Charles was trying to be patient with her over this and accept that she was trying to find answers but she still suspected he would be sceptical. After Molly and Bella had finished talking this morning, they had gone into the Poppy Tea Rooms. Molly's head was still spinning from everything they had discussed and she felt that she needed a cup of tea. She desperately wanted to believe that they might have drawn the right conclusions but she knew they had no proof. It was just supposition based on an account from Ted Chadwick of something that happened more than thirty years ago. The rest was merely their own intuition and they had no idea how reliable that was in a situation such as this. However, when Sally Phillpotts came over to the table to serve them Molly took the opportunity to ask her a question. She had returned with the pot of tea and some teacakes that William was eyeing up with glee and Molly said casually,

"I've had a few letters arrive in the post for old Mrs Harker this week, nothing important, I think but I had to arrange to get them sent on to her family. I was wondering if there might be many more. Did she get a lot of letters when you were working there Sally?"

Sally shrugged. "Not many that I recall, just a few bills and stuff, usually. Poor lady couldn't read any of them, mind you, I used to have to open it all and read it to her."

"Did she get any letters from her daughter?" Molly said praying that the waitress wouldn't ask her why she was so interested.

"Her daughter?" she said in surprise. "I didn't know she had one. She certainly never got any letters from a daughter when I was there."

"Oh thank you," Molly said, "I must have been mistaken about that." She cast a significant look in Bella's direction. It hadn't proved very much other than there didn't appear to have been any contact between Alice and her mother in the last four years of her life.

Molly rose awkwardly from the seat, conscious of the telephone still ringing and wanting to get there before the caller rang off. She stretched her back as she moved towards the hall stiff from sitting so long in one position. When she picked up the receiver she heard a familiar female voice.

"Mrs James. It's Felicity Harker here. I do so wish to apologise for the way our telephone call was interrupted when we spoke last week. I'm afraid it was an unfortunate misunderstanding." She paused. Molly was astonished and in the same instant, thinking of her conversation with Charles immediately concerned. She played for time, wondering what would follow.

"That's alright," she said vaguely.

"Well it's very kind of you to say so, but I realise it must have seemed extremely rude. I'm very sorry. When you called you mentioned that there were questions you wished to ask us about Greystones and my husband's Aunt?"

"Yes," Molly said lamely, her mind still confused by the reason for the call.

"I wonder if you and your husband would like to come over tomorrow morning at say, eleven o'clock and perhaps we could help you with your enquiries."

Molly was dumbstruck and hesitated not sure how to answer. Given everything Charles had said and the argument there had been she knew this was one occasion when she couldn't agree without consulting him.

"I would need to check with my husband," she said as firmly as she could muster.

"Of course," Mrs Harker said pleasantly. Molly agreed she would call back later and Mrs Harker rang off. Molly closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"What is it?"

Charles was standing at the top of the stairs. Molly looked up at him, her eyes full of concern.

"We've been invited to visit Mr and Mrs Harker tomorrow morning. They need an answer and I didn't know what to say."

Charles slowly descended the stairs clearly lost in thought.

"She sounded very pleasant and apologised about before but that don't mean anything much if he's a crook does it? Can't we just make an excuse and say we're not going?" Molly said miserably. Charles reached out to her and placed his hands on her shoulders looking her squarely in the face,

"Avoiding him and trying to hide ourselves away isn't going to make this problem disappear."

He turned away from her, picked up the telephone receiver and dialled the number. There was a pause before it was answered and he spoke, "Good Evening. It's Charles James here. I'm just calling to thank you for the invitation. Molly and I would be delighted to come over tomorrow."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Charles and Molly spoke very little on the twenty minute journey to Marshford the next morning. After the telephone call from Mrs Harker last night and Charles' declaration that they needed to face their problem head on and deal with any consequences as they arose, there seemed little point in trying to anticipate what might happen.

"I'm sure, that whatever he wishes to discuss with us will be conducted in a civilised manner," Charles said trying to smile reassuringly at Molly.

"Well, the invitation did come from Mrs Harker, didn't it?" Molly said trying to be equally positive. "Why would she invite me if there was going to be any trouble?"

Her intentions of talking to Charles about the meeting with Ted Chadwick or her discussions with Bella had gone out of the window completely. It was clear that Charles was too occupied by his present day problems to concern himself with something that had happened a long time ago. It had been thirty three years since Alice Delaney had left Greystones for another life and Molly felt sure the mystery of where she had gone would wait one more day.

That night in bed Molly cuddled in close to Charles and was glad of his arm around her. He kissed the top of her head as she lay next to him and she managed to sleep in spite of her worries. Charles however, dozed fitfully, concerned about the potential trouble that might be heading their way. Although, he had said nothing to Molly yet, he was resolved upon going to the Police if this meeting caused him any further concerns. He had no intention of being coerced into underhand activities.

Willow Dean House in Marshford was a Georgian house of modest proportions set in ten acres of grounds in a clearing surrounded by woodland. The house was set well away from the main road and prying eyes and approached by a quarter of a mile long gravelled driveway. As Charles and Molly emerged from the driveway into the clearing the house came into view.

"Looks like crime pays alright, then!" Molly quipped cynically.

Charles managed a weak smile but said nothing in reply. They parked up at the front of the house and made their way to the front door. They heard the sound of a doorbell ringing some distance away and waited until they heard footsteps approaching. The door was opened by a maid who smiled pleasantly and showed them into the tiled hallway. She took Charles' hat and placed it on a highly polished table. Molly glanced at herself in the hall mirror over the table. She looked pale and nervous. Her green eyes stared back at her full of uncertainty and she wondered how they had ever managed to end up in such a situation.

The maid opened a door on the left hand side of the hall and they were shown into a drawing room. The room was comfortably furnished and warm and welcoming. An immaculately dressed woman in her late thirties rose from the couch near the fireplace and walked towards them smiling with what appeared to be genuine warmth.

"I'm Felicity Harker. How do you do?"

She had just shaken hands with Charles and Molly when the drawing room door opened and two men entered the room. The first she assumed from Charles' description of the man he had met last week, to be Gerald Harker. He walked towards them both smiling broadly and shook Charles by the hand before turning towards Molly and saying,

"You must be Mrs James. It's lovely to meet you." He shook hands with her his firm grip matched by the steely gaze fixed upon her and she couldn't help remembering that the last time they had spoken he had told her in no uncertain terms never to call at the house again. He seemed to have conveniently forgotten that exchange and was being very polite and welcoming. She understood now what Charles had meant. He was most definitely charming but there was something else about him that she couldn't define. She had the feeling that he wasn't everything he claimed to be.

The second man who had come into room she recognised from their first viewing of Greystones as Richard Murray and he greeted her warmly. They all chatted for a few minutes as if it was the most natural thing in the world and they were simply a group of acquaintances catching up. It was only when the maid brought in a tea tray that Gerald turned to Molly and said very politely,

"I wonder if I could borrow your husband for a little while, Mrs James. I would very much like to ask his advice on a few matters."

Molly looked across the room at Charles and he nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Of course," she said managing to force a smile but realising that the real business of the day was about to be conducted and well out of her earshot.

"We'll try not to be too long," Gerald assured her as he guided Charles out of the room and into the hall. He closed the door behind him and said politely,

"Please come this way, Charles." He led him along the hallway and through a door on the right hand side which opened into his study. A pair of leather tub chairs was situated in front of a large mahogany desk. He moved around behind the desk and indicated to Charles and Richard to sit down. Charles sat and waited.

"I imagine you wonder why I invited you here today." Harker said gravely.

"If it relates to the discussions we had last week," Charles said immediately, wanting to curtail the meeting, "then I've already given you my answer."

Harker raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender at these words, "Yes, Charles. You made your feelings quite plain to Richard but I think there are still matters we need to discuss."

He sat down opposite Charles and said, "When we met last week I wasn't entirely honest with you."

Charles held his breath afraid of what was to follow.

"I'm not a business man. When we met last week, I told you that I worked in Military Intelligence during the war and that's how Richard and I came to know each other. However, whereas Richard returned to private practice after the war, I remained in Intelligence." He paused allowing his words to sink in. Charles was silent. Relief at realising Harker wasn't a criminal was mixed with confusion over why he still wanted to speak to him.

"Naturally, "he continued, "I can't tell you which department I work for or the exact nature of my work but I will say it relates to national security."

He paused and Charles said,

"So what was the purpose of the meeting last week? You offered me a lot of money to be involved in something that sounded very shady."

Gerald smiled, "Yes, that's quite an apt description. Some people I know would consider my work to be very shady indeed." He was almost laughing at himself.

"Richard and I decided to play a little game with you. You see, we already knew quite a lot about you, Charles. Naturally, we've checked up on you and know that you have an exemplary service record; your financial dealings are sound and above board and Richard certainly had gained a good impression of you from your dealings with him. He put me on to you in the first place. However, we didn't really know what Charles James the man was like so we devised a little test. In my experience, nothing tells you more about a man's integrity than to lay temptation in his path and see how he responds."

Charles shook his head, "So you're saying that the business deal was in fact a test to see if I'd accept your terms without question no matter how suspicious I was."

Gerald nodded, "We needed to know what sort of man we were dealing with and you'll be pleased to know that you passed with flying colours, that is until your wife's telephone call here put doubt into our minds about whether you could be trusted."

Charles spoke, "I knew nothing about that until Richard called me."

Richard looked a bit sheepish, "Yes, well it took us a couple of days to find out how that had happened and then it turned out to be something as simple as my own secretary being tricked into giving Mrs James the number." He raised his eyebrows.

Gerald smiled, "We checked on your wife too. She has a good service record, hasn't she? Awarded the George Medal for bravery by His Majesty, no less, a key witness in breaking up a black market racket involving the theft of military goods whilst serving at RAF Milton and I understand she also holds a private pilot's licence now. She's obviously quite a spirited lady."

It was Charles' turn to smile at this understatement and he said, "Oh yes, Molly is sometimes what you might call an unstoppable force of nature."

"When she called here, she said she wanted to find out about my Aunt and the house. Is that true?"

Charles nodded. "Yes. She's trying to get to the bottom of something which I can assure you has nothing to do with national security. Her reasons for calling were entirely personal and I think you could help her."

"Very well," Gerald said, "We'll talk with her in a little while, but firstly, I'd like to discuss a real business arrangement with you, if you're prepared to listen and to assure you that anything you might be asked to do would be on behalf of his majesty's government."

Charles listened in silence as Gerald outlined his plans to make occasional use of the airfield. In many ways the proposal was not dissimilar to that discussed last week except that the knowledge of whom he was dealing with and to some extent why put a completely different perspective on the matter. Gerald had need of somewhere relatively out of the way where light freight or occasionally personnel could be flown in or out by light aircraft from and to undisclosed locations. The advantage for Gerald was that the airfield was relatively near to his home and it was sometimes necessary for him to hold meetings here. Most of all they needed to know that Charles could be trusted not only to keep all matters confidential but also to deflect any questions or suspicions that might occasionally arise from comings and goings at the airfield. It simply couldn't be undertaken without his co-operation.

"I'm afraid we can't offer you terms that are quite as lucrative as those we previously discussed, for obvious reasons, but we will certainly ensure that you are adequately rewarded for your assistance."

He stopped speaking and looked at Charles for an answer. Apart from practical issues that needed to be ironed out Charles had no qualms this time about agreeing to be involved save for one issue,

"If I agree to this, Gerald, I must insist that Molly is party to this knowledge. She is my business partner in all but legal name and what's more she's the person I trust most in the world. I'm willing to tell lies and half-truths for the sake of national security but not to my wife. I'm sorry if that will be a problem but I have to be totally honest with you."

Gerald nodded, "I think we both realised that would be a condition and I'm agreeable to Mrs James being party to this but I must insist that it goes no further."

He held it out his hand to Charles, "Are we in agreement?"

Charles smiled, reached out and grasped his hand, "Yes, I think we are."

Molly had been sitting in the drawing room with Mrs Harker drinking tea for nearly half an hour. She was clearly a well-educated, cultured lady with a wide knowledge of music and the arts and had discussed or attempted to discuss a range of subjects with Molly hoping to engage her interest. However, Molly had struggled to keep her mind on any of them for very long and realised she would have struggled to make a contribution of any interest if she had. They eventually settled on discussing the local area and how well the family were settling into Nethercombe in general. Mrs Harker asked her about the house and said,

"I understand you wanted to ask me some questions about my husband's Aunt."

Molly nodded but realised that most of the questions had flown out of her head since they had entered the house. She was so concerned about what Charles might be coerced into doing that she had forgotten that she might discover something to shed light on the unanswered questions. She did however, manage to ask,

"I wondered if you could tell me anything about Mrs Harker's daughter, Alice Delaney."

She saw Mrs Harker's eyebrows lift in surprise.

"Goodness, " she said, "I don't think I can tell you very much. I've never met her but it's possible that Gerald did when he was a child."

"Really," Molly said. "Do you know where she is now?"

"I don't believe she's contacted her mother or anyone else in the family for about twenty years. I believe that they were estranged but I don't know the reasons why."

Molly looked around the room searching for something else to talk about and caught sight of a water colour painting on the wall that looked familiar,

"Is that Nethercombe church?" she asked.

Mrs Harker turned around to look at it, "Yes, I believe it is. In fact, it was actually done by my husband's uncle, Maurice. He was very artistic and there are some others of his hanging in the dining room. Now I think of it, one of the pictures does have Alice in the foreground. I do think if he hadn't decided to become an architect he might well have been an artist. It seems as if he was able turn his had to many different skills. We have some beautiful illuminated letters that he did and he was also skilled at calligraphy. Gerald has some of his work in the library here perhaps I could look it out for you." She rose from her seat as if meaning to go and look for the pieces when the door to the drawing room opened and Gerald Harker entered followed by Charles and Richard Murray. Molly's face turned anxiously towards Charles but she was relieved to see him smiling broadly at her. He looked relaxed and as he walked towards her she saw him wink and knew then that there was nothing to be concerned about. As he reached her he uncharacteristically leaned across to kiss her on the cheek and whispered in her ear,

"Everything's fine. Tell you later."

At Mrs Harker's suggestion Charles sat down next to Molly and she poured him a cup of tea.

"I do hope Felicity has been keeping you entertained," Gerald said politely.

"Yes, she has," Molly replied still feeling flustered and desperate to know what the outcome of Charles' discussions had been.

"We were just talking about your Uncle Maurice and Mrs James was interested in his artistic talents," Mrs Harker supplied.

"Ah, yes," Gerald said, "I understand from Charles that there are some points I may be able to help you with. He told me that you're trying to find out about something relating to the house."

Molly took a deep breath hoping that she wouldn't sound ridiculous, "I was just asking Mrs Harker about Alice Delaney. She thought you might have met her when you were a child."

Gerald was clearly taken aback, "Goodness, I only have a very vague memory of her. I was a very small child when we met. All I know of her really is the painting. I don't recall my uncle or aunt talking about her very much if at all."

"So you don't know where she is?" Molly asked.

"All I know is that she apparently ran away towards the end of the Great War to become a nurse and she didn't return. I understand that she occasionally wrote to her mother but never left any details of where she could be contacted. It must have been terrible for my Aunt to be estranged from her daughter like that. I believe she was quite bitter about it. In fact, as I recall she made reference to it in her will." He looked to Richard for affirmation.

"That's right," Richard confirmed. "When she revised her will in 1947 she cut her daughter out of it in favour of Gerald here. I can't remember the exact phrasing but it was something like, _in the absence of any communication from my daughter, Alice, for fifteen years I hereby renounce her entitlement to inherit my property and possessions in favour of my nephew in law, Gerald Harker._"

Molly considered this and realised that according to Mrs Harker's will, Alice had not written to her mother since 1932. The date jumped out at her. Other details she had heard over the last week began to circulate in her mind: the happenings in the house, the conversations with Reverend Swinton and Ted Chadwick, the discussions with Bella, the dreams they had shared, the information she had been given today and at last she was able to form a clear picture.

"I wonder Mr Harker, could you possibly show me the painting of Alice?" Molly asked.

He was surprised by the request but happy to lead her though to the dining room across the hall. On the left hand wall was a painting in oils of Greystones pictured in the summer and sitting in the foreground dressed in a style of white summer dress popular during the Great War years was a young woman with long, flowing auburn hair. Her piecing blue eyes seemed to follow Molly around the room and her face wore an expression of mystery. A half-smile hovered on her lips. Around her neck hung a silver locket.

"She was lovely, wasn't she?" Molly said gazing at the picture.

"Yes," Mr Harker replied simply. "Is there something you need to tell me, Mrs James?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

**July 1917**

_Alice Delaney had spent half an hour searching the garden at Greystones before she finally spotted the blue earthenware pot hiding in a patch of blue delphiniums. She smiled to herself. It was just like Dan to hide it somewhere out of sight like that which would make it just as difficult for her to find as anyone else to see. She lifted the pot and saw the small folded note underneath. She picked it up and replaced the pot. She hastily read the note, "I'm sorry, Alice, please forgive me. The train leaves at four o'clock from Cookham Halt. I'll wait until then for you. I love you. D x" She heard the sound of footsteps approaching on the gravel of the driveway and stuffed the note hastily into her pocket._

_"__What are you doing?" Alice's heart sank as she heard her step-father's voice. He didn't usually come home from work this early and he seemed to be irritated by her presence as usual._

_"__Nothing!" she said brusquely and turned away from him to go back into the house. Trust him to turn up on this day of all days. _

_She and Dan had met last night in secret, as they always did, down by the river. They had been making plans to run away for months, waiting for the right moment to present itself and now that they finally had their chance with his final leave before embarkation for France, they had argued. Alice had wanted to leave her mother a note to tell her what she was doing but Dan had argued that she shouldn't. It would be better to simply get married and tell everyone afterwards without giving them any chance to prevent it. She had been stupid; she knew that now. She had threatened not to go with him at all and had stormed off before they could resolve the disagreement. Her anger had only lasted a short time. By the morning she realised that he was right. It was better to leave without a word even if it did worry her mother for a while. As soon as they reached Scotland and were married she could send word to her._

_She went back into the house glancing at the Grandfather clock in the hall as she passed. It was almost two o'clock. Her mother was out at a meeting of the Nethercombe Ladies War Relief Committee and wouldn't be back until at least half past four. She went upstairs to her room and found the small carpet bag in her wardrobe. She hastily started shoving items of clothing into it without much thought although she took care to take her best afternoon dress and fold it as carefully as she could. She wanted to have something nice to wear for her wedding. She knew that it would take her nearly an hour to walk to Cookham Halt by road and there was always a danger someone might see her on the road. It would be quicker to walk through the woods at Hester Rise and she stood far less chance of meeting anyone she knew._

_She waited upstairs for as long as she dared, hoping that her step-father would have gone into his study to do some work or immerse himself in some other artistic pursuit. It often amazed her how a man who seemed to be so bad tempered, at least in her presence, could display so much artistic talent. As much as she begrudged him any respect she had to concede that he did have talent. _

_By three o'clock she knew she couldn't wait any longer and crept down the stairs. As luck would have it her step-father's study was at the rear of the house and she was able to leave by the front door shutting it as noiselessly as she could. She had never realised before, how noisy feet on gravel could be as she tried to tiptoe along the driveway hampered by the weight of the carpet bag._

_Maurice Harker had come home early from the office after a client had failed to keep an appointment. The rude response from Alice in the garden was something he had come to expect. The girl simply didn't like him and never had. He often thought that she resented him probably because he had married her mother when she was ten years old and less than a year after her own father had died. He had tried to be kind to her but somehow she would never accept it from him, preferring to be sullen and uncooperative. She had started to be difficult almost from the first day they had moved into Greystones and eventually he had persuaded Louisa that it would be better for Alice to go away to school. _

_Things were calmer and more peaceful in the house without Alice and although he always found the holidays disruptive they were limited to a few weeks at a time. However, since Alice had finished school and returned home for good a few months ago the atmosphere had become worse and worse. He felt that he could barely move or speak without it provoking some argument._

_Louisa was a quiet woman who looked to her husband to keep everything under control. She was becoming increasingly dependent on him. Her sight had been an issue for a few years and doctors had warned that she would probably go blind altogether in time. It was clear to Maurice that Alice took after her Irish father rather than her mother. She flounced around the house, declaring her opinions on everything and taking exception to the way most things were done either at home or in Nethercombe in general. Only yesterday he had tried to warn her that her behaviour was causing her mother a great deal of unhappiness but it had degenerated into an argument about her not being welcome in the house and she had threatened to run off and join the VAD's. The only reason he hadn't told her to do just that and save them all a lot of trouble was the fact that her mother needed her and it was true that in spite of the years spent apart there was a closeness between them that he didn't want to break for Louisa's sake._

_He had heard the creak on the stairs and the front door being quietly opened and shut and knew that it must be Alice. She was clearly up to something and he had a suspicion she might have been seeing that gardener's lad as he had been around the last couple of days on leave from the army when Ted Chadwick was up here doing his work. Ted Chadwick was a decent enough man and he was reliable and carried out his work diligently but at the end of the day he was the gardener and no step-daughter of a respectable, professional, middle-class man like himself should be seen out and about cavorting with a lowly private soldier. He was sure that Louisa would be unhappy about it. He put down his paintbrush and went out into the hall. He opened the front door but could see no one around so he wandered to the end of the drive and looked left and right. Several hundred yards away to his left he saw Alice turning the corner in the lane and carrying a carpet bag._

_He set out to follow her. By the time he had reached the footpath that led up to Hester Rise and beyond to Cookham, he could see she was a couple of hundred yards ahead of him along the path. He caught a glimpse of her through the trees and hurried his steps to catch her up. The path was on rising ground and as he moved faster trying to reach her he started to breathe heavily. He was about fifty yards away from her when she realised someone was behind her. She turned and saw him with a look of horror on her face._

_"__Stop!" he called to her. "Come back here, now!"_

_She turned away from him and hastened her steps trying to run as best she could but burdened by the bag in her hand. He was struggling for breath but gaining on her all the time. She had reached the higher ground but he was only ten yards away from her when she suddenly stopped and dropped the bag. As he caught up with her he saw she was standing at the edge of a narrow gorge that was about three or four feet wide. The path continued the other side and she needed to jump over it but she was breathless and too exhausted to move. She stared at him in anger._

_"__Why are you following me?" _

_"__Where are you going?" he gasped._

_"__It's none of your business," she shouted back at him._

_"__Yes, it is, young lady. You're eighteen years old and you live under my roof. You'll do as I say," he yelled back at her._

_"__Not any longer. If I listen to anyone it'll be my husband when I'm married, not you."_

_It all made sense to him now: hanging around near Daniel Chadwick, leaving suddenly, the bag she had been carrying in her hand, taking the path to Cookham Halt, talking of marriage._

_"__I suppose you think you're going to run off with that Chadwick boy?" he cried angrily._

_"__Yes, I am," she said her eyes blazing in fury, "and I have to be there by four or he'll go without me."_

_"__Well, you've got another think coming!" he said, grasping her arm roughly and pulling her back towards him. _

_She resisted him and they began to struggle as he tried to drag her back down the path and she fought to get away from him. She lashed out at him with both hands reigning blows on him and as he tried to fend her off he caught the locket around her neck. The chain broke and it came away in his left hand. She stopped and stared in shock and he seized his moment, lunging towards her in an attempt to grab her and contain her but she moved instinctively pushing him away with such force that she staggered. Her right foot caught the edge of the gorge and she stumbled backwards her arms flailing around wildly. He stepped forward to grasp her arm but it was too late and she fell without a sound leaving her lips. He stood in horror, transfixed. It took him a full five minutes to summon the courage to look over the edge of the gorge into the darkness a hundred feet below. There was nothing to be seen. No sign of her at all. It was dark and overgrown with ferns and moss. No one could survive that fall he told himself. In a moment of madness and panic he picked up the bag she had left on the path and dropped it over edge. He heard the distant sound of it hitting the bottom with a thump. When he peered over again there was no sign of it. _

_It was only when he reached Greystones after stumbling blindly back the way he had come that he realised he was still holding the silver locket in his left hand. In his shock he had kept hold of it. It stared up at him accusingly and he realised that he needed to hide it and ensure that he never saw it again. He found some old cloth and wrapped it up before stuffing it into a crack at the back of a corner cupboard in one of the empty guest bedrooms. He knew that Louisa was planning on getting the room redecorated and decided he would tell the handyman to simply board up the cupboard for good. He heard the Grandfather clock strike four and knew that Louisa would be back from her committee meeting soon. He had to do something to stop her raising concerns with the local constabulary about Alice's disappearance. He went into her room and found a half written letter abandoned on her writing table. He took it downstairs to his study and finding a clean sheet of writing paper began to copy her lettering. He had a good eye for detail and a steady artistic hand and he knew that his wife's failing eyesight would make up for any shortcomings in his forgery. He began to write the first letter of many he would write over the next fifteen years; letters from a dead daughter to her mother. _


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

**October 1950**

Bella stood at the stern of the cross channel ferry watching the white cliffs of Dover receding, becoming merely small specks on the distant horizon as the ship steamed across the English Channel heading for Boulogne. It was the first time she had travelled abroad and a small part of her was excited at the thought of leaving England behind and taking a few tentative steps beyond the world she had known until now. However, she had never expected to be making her first trip to the continent because of the death of someone more than thirty years ago. As she watched the water below being churned up in the wash from the ship's propellers she thought of Alice Delaney, another young woman who had wanted to leave her home and change her future but whose life had ended so tragically.

* * *

When Molly had told Gerald Harker her theory of what had happened to Alice Delaney on that afternoon in July 1917 he had been cautious in accepting her version of potential events but willing to consider the possibility of there being some truth in the matter. Like Charles he had never claimed to be a believer in the supernatural but Felicity had recalled that during her visits to Greystones towards the end of his Aunt's life, Sally Phillpotts had complained about unexplained noises in the house. After listening to Ted Chadwick's account of events and accessing the relevant war records to discover that no one of the name Alice Delaney had enrolled in the VAD's in 1917, he was curious enough to use his influence to arrange for a search of the gorge at Hester Rise.

It had been an awkward business in both practical terms and due to the sensitivity of the situation for Gerald Harker's family and his professional life. However, on the second day of searching, human remains had been found near the site below the rotten bridge that spanned the gorge. They had been taken away for analysis by a Home Office pathologist and after several weeks declared to be those of a young female and to date approximately from the period Alice had disappeared. In the light of the limited evidence available it was concluded that in all probability the remains were those belonging to Alice Delaney. An inquest had recorded an open verdict. .

One morning a couple of weeks after the discovery of Alice's remains, Bella had wandered into the kitchen at Greystones looking for Charles and Molly. She seemed unusually quiet and reflective and Molly couldn't help asking her if she was feeling alright.

"I've been thinking about Alice and what she really wanted when she left here that last day. She wanted to be with Dan, didn't she? That's what she was trying to tell us all along I think. It's a pity she can't be buried with him, isn't it?"

Charles had decided at the end of that first week of living at Greystones that it was better for him to say as little about the subject of Alice Delaney as possible. He had started out being adamant that Molly's suspicions about the house and particularly her belief that William had seen Alice's ghost, were nonsense but the events that had transpired during that first week culminating in the discovery of Alice's remains a little while later had caused him to question his convictions. He couldn't say with his hand on his heart that he truly believed in the supernatural but he was willing to believe that some people were more sensitive to events in the past and it was possible that William was one of those people. Perhaps it was intuition he had inherited from his mother because Molly had certainly sensed almost from the start that something was wrong and she had been determined, in the way only Molly could, to put things right. Looking at what had subsequently happened he had to conclude that she had done just that.

"Dan is buried in a war graves cemetery in France, Bella, so I'm afraid there's nothing to be done on that score," Charles replied to her question.

"Yes," Bella agreed, "Even Ted hasn't ever been there. It's sad isn't it that he's never been able to visit the grave of his son."

She looked thoughtful and said quietly, "We might not be able to bury Alice with Dan but perhaps she could keep a little piece of Dan with her. I think I should give Alice her locket back."

The funeral of Alice Delaney had been held quietly at St Mary's church in Nethercombe in the first week of September 1950. The group of mourners had been small with only Gerald and Felicity Harker, Ted Chadwick, Charles, Molly and Bella in attendance. Gerald Harker had made all the necessary arrangements and the funeral had been conducted sombrely and with dignity. She was laid to rest alongside her mother and with Gerald's agreement the silver locket containing the lock of Dan's hair had been placed in the casket with her.

It had been the mention of Dan's grave in France that had put the idea into Molly's head. She thought of how sad it was that Ted Chadwick had never been able to visit his son's grave. She had struggled to contemplate how he had borne his loss all these years. Whenever she looked at William and thought of it she was moved to tears. When she suggested to Charles that it might be a very kind gesture to take Ted to France for a visit, she had expected him to need to be persuaded but the opposite had been true. He had readily agreed with her and as it was much too late in Molly's pregnancy for her to consider such a trip herself, she had suggested that Bella go with them. It had taken some weeks for them to get passports but by early October both Bella and Ted had the necessary documents to travel and the trip was arranged. It would be good for Bella to get away for a few days, Molly thought. Tom had celebrated his eighteenth birthday in early September and his National Service call-up papers had arrived soon afterwards. Tom had left for his basic training last week and Bella was missing him terribly. He was a good, kind lad and Molly and Charles both liked him very much. It was also clear to Molly that they were very much in love and it was touching to see her young sister becoming less brash and more caring and thoughtful, not that she didn't still manage to speak her mind in no uncertain terms from time to time. Molly was still blushing at the memory of William innocently telling Grandma Mary on a visit a few weeks ago that,

"Some people are too lazy to get off their bleedin' arses and do anything."

She had managed to blame that on something William must have heard at school but she wasn't sure that Mary was convinced. William had started at Nethercombe School in September and he was beginning to make friends in the village now and settle into life here, as they all were, and it was good to start feeling part of a community at last.

Business at the airfield was still steady and the arrangement with Gerald Harker was providing a regular income even if the activities were shrouded in mystery. True to his word Charles had told Molly about the situation as soon as possible and she had supported his decision, relieved as he had been, that their fears of criminal activity were unfounded, not that maintaining high levels of secrecy for legitimate purposes was an easier. When Bella had dropped a few hints about being interested in doing some work in the offices at the airfield, Charles had been forced to put her off with an excuse. However, Tom's father had come to the rescue, offering her a chance to help him out in the shop and do some deliveries for him on a part-time basis now that Tom was going away to do military service. Charles was relieved and Bella realised that she would much rather serve customers in the shop with the opportunity to pass the day chatting and gossiping than type letters.

* * *

It had taken more than three hours to drive from Boulogne to the small village south of Arras where the cemetery containing Dan Chadwick's grave was located. They turned left from the main road into the village and onto a pitted farm track. They bumped along for about a hundred yards until turning a corner they saw the low rubble wall that enclosed the cemetery.

Charles turned off the engine and they got out the car. It was a lovely sunny day with unbroken blue skies and they were sheltered from the fresh breeze of early October. The cemetery had been established on a small incline and rows of white headstones laid out with inch perfect precision lead gently up to a tall white stone cross at the top of the plot. Everything was perfectly maintained, from the smooth carpet lawn to the flowers planted at the base of every headstone. Bella saw Ted look around him, smiling in approval and she was glad for his sake that everything looked just as it should.

Bella and Charles followed Ted at a discreet distance as he made his way up through the centre aisle to the third row from the top. He moved along until he was standing in front of the fourth headstone in. He gazed silently at the inscription his hands folded in front of him and they saw him close his eyes as if offering a silent prayer.

Not wishing to intrude Charles and Bella stayed back but after a few minutes Ted beckoned them over. Drawing level with him Bella glanced down at the headstone and read:

Gunner

Chadwick D.E.

Royal Field Artillery

15 July 1918

Sleep On Dear Son Sleep On

Ted smiled, "Those words were his mum's choice. I wish she could have been here."

Charles placed a hand on Ted's shoulder, "She will be here. I'm sure of it."

Bella looked across at Ted and said very softly, "May I?"

Ted nodded. "You go ahead. It's what Dan would have wanted."

He stepped away from the grave and walked slowly up towards the stone cross with Charles. Bella bent down and reaching into her pocket took out a small piece of cloth. She opened it and took one last look at the lock of auburn hair in her hand. Reaching forward she dug a small hole in the earth with her fingers at the base of the headstone and placed the lock of hair into the ground, covering it over again with as much earth as she could. She took one last look before turning and walking away to join the others.

* * *

Molly sat on the bench in the garden shifting her weight from side to side. It was hard to get comfortable now particularly given the size she had become. Her last visit to Dr Sanderson had produced some unexpected news which she had told Charles with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Dr Sanderson had been concerned about the accelerated rate at which the baby seemed to be growing since July and had finally confirmed his suspicions and informed her that she was expecting twins. He could now hear two distinct heartbeats. It wouldn't be very much longer now he had assured her as it was far more likely that the babies would be born early. Charles had been delighted.

"It's a good job Bella's here," he said. "We're going to need her help more than ever, assuming of course, that she wants to stay."

Molly rolled her eyes, "I think there could be at least one reason she'd like to stay around here and it probably isn't anything to do with us."

It was after four o'clock. It had been a lovely bright, sunny autumnal day although as the day had gone on the breeze had stiffened noticeably. William was home from school and loved spending time in the garden. It was gradually being brought back to life thanks to the efforts of Charles and Bella and also a young lad from the village called Paul, recommended to them by Ted Chadwick. Sometimes Ted came along as well to give Paul the benefit of all his years of knowledge and experience but not this week while he was away with Charles and Bella. Paul was finishing up for the afternoon and piled the weeds and cuttings into the wheelbarrow before pushing them around the side of the house to deposit them onto the compost heap at the rear.

William had wandered off a little way. Molly saw him standing still, staring into the distance. He raised his right hand and waved. Molly could clearly see him smiling. It was a smile of recognition and friendship. She was puzzled.

"What are you doing Will?"

He glanced at her and replied innocently, "Waving to the lady and the man." Molly stared ahead but could see nothing.

"What do you mean? Where are they, Will?"

He pointed directly ahead. "There. The lady's wearing Auntie Bella's necklace but she's smiling this time. Can't you see them, Mummy? "

Molly looked into the distance. She saw the leaves on the trees gradually turning a russet brown with the change in the season and heard the wind rushing through the valley below them. She saw the light beginning to change as the year grew older but nothing else.

She shook her head, "I can't see them, Will, but I believe you because I know that they're there."


End file.
